


Codename: Whirlwind

by SteelLily



Series: Project Crisalide [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Mutants, Blood, Deaths, F/F, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Violence, World War II, mutant!Angie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-17 10:31:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3525977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelLily/pseuds/SteelLily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of 16, Angela Martinelli discovers that there is something very different about her when she accidentally kills a boy. Her parents, fearing for their daughter, send her off to an Italian facility that specializes in handling people with gifts such as Angie's.</p><p>Ten years later, Angie returns to the United States with a new mission: destroy the organization, SHIELD, before they have a chance to solidify. Can she complete her mission, or will Director Carter be the end of the 084 SHIELD calls Whirlwind?</p><p>Disclaimer: I don't own any of characters from the Marvel Universe and I make no claim to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mulinello

**Author's Note:**

> This story was the idea of tumblr user: yokothetypo. They messaged me and said that they would love to see a story where Angie is a mutant of some sort and Peggy has to deal with her. I'm oversimplifying because I accidentally deleted the message that conveyed the original idea. (Sorry!)
> 
> Anyway, I was trusted with the execution of this EXCELLENT idea and I hope y'all enjoy it.

_New York City, East Harlem, 1938_

Angela Martinelli shifted nervously in the passenger seat of Arturo Bastiani’s father’s car. Angie was 16 years old and it was her first real grown up date. Her parents were friends with Art’s mom and dad. When his father suggested that Art ask Angie on a date, he had grinned predatorily which made Angie involuntarily shrink away. His grin widened as he situated himself against Angie’s side and winked at the adults in their living room. He put his arm around her shoulder, “Miss Martinelli, would you do me the honour of accompanying me this Friday?”

Angie straightened under the weight of his arm and shrugged him off her. She nodded through narrowed eyes. He knew her secret and had threatened on numerous occasions to tell her parents that she did not actually like boys but preferred girls. Angie protested, obviously, but he pulled a pulp magazine she had stolen from her father out from under her bed. Angie’s face reddened and she grabbed at it. He held it over her head and taunted her, “Oh you’ll go out with me eventually. Or I’ll tell your family what kind of sicko pervert you are,” he had then tossed the magazine back on her bed and glided out of her room.

Angie had cried that night and reckoned—sitting in the car next to Art—that she would cry again later after the date ended. She smoothed her hands down her skirt and waved at her parents as Art pulled his father’s car away from the curb in front of their house. “Pop made a reservation for us at your granddad’s restaurant,” Arturo groaned.

Angie sighed in relief that for at least an hour she would not have to worry about fighting off unwelcomed advances. Arturo looked at the smile on Angie’s face and rolled his eyes. “After that, we’re going to the drive-in.”

Angie looked out the window away from his dark laughing eyes. “There’s no way to get outta that one, sweet cheeks,” he smirked.

“Art, why wouldn’t you rather go out with a girl who actually likes you?” Angie sighed.

“Cause I want you and I get what I want.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Art parked the car in the lot across the street and Angie hopped out of the car as soon as he put it in park. Arturo had to run to catch up with her which he did, in the middle of the street. He threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her back toward him. Angie screwed a smile onto her face as they walked into the restaurant. Her grandfather, Marco, shouted when he saw her walk in, “Angela, bella!”

His eyes narrowed at Arturo’s arm. He dropped it, instinctively and Angie bolted to her grandfather’s side and fell into a hug. “Hey papa,” she smiled.

Angie stayed burrowed under the crook of his protective arm while Art forced a smile at them. “Now you be good to my nipote or you’ll have me to answer to. You hear me son?”

Angie smirked. “Of course, sir,” Art replied.

“Fabuloso,” he replied and clapped Art on the shoulder, he bent forward under the strength. “You got the best seat in the house, tonight, bambini,” he led them to the table right in front of the order window at the kitchen, “Now I can keep my eye on you.”

Angie laughed, “Thanks papa,” and sank into the seat across from Art.

She knew she was enjoying Art’s discomfort a little too much from his glares but she just could not help herself under the watchful safety of basically her entire family. She would worry about later when later got there, for now, she relaxed against the seat and relished the three course meal her grandfather had planned out which he made Art pay full price for. Once Art finally paid, Angie sighed as he dragged her out of the chair behind a patient smile. Her grandfather exited the kitchen holding a butcher knife. He pulled Angie too him and kissed the top of her head. “Bastiani,” he pointed the knife at Art, “You disrespect my granddaughter and you’ll wish you hadn’t been born, eh?”

Art smiled innocently, “I wouldn’t dream of it Mr. Martinelli.”

Angie peeled back from her grandfather. “See ya later, papa,” she smiled.

He leaned in close, “I’m serious, bella. If he touches you, you tell me and I’ll cut his balls off, capisci?”

“I got it, papa. I love you,” Angie stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek before heading out the front door after Art.

Art drove like a bat out of hell for the drive-in. Angie sighed and sank into the seat, desperately not wanting to arrive. Eventually they did arrive, however, and Art bought two tickets for The Adventures of Robin Hood. Angie admitted to herself that she did want to see that, due mostly to Olivia de Havilland, but she wracked her brain for ways to ensure she was actually able to watch the movie rather than fight off Art’s wandering hands. He parked the car and got out to go buy drinks and popcorn, leaving Angie alone to think for a moment. A grin spread across her face and she scrambled out of the car and plopped herself on the hood. When Art returned with both arms full of sodas and a large tub of popcorn, he sighed. “Really?”

Angie took the drinks and popcorn from him so he could slide onto the hood of the car as well. He unhooked the speaker from the stand next to the driver window and sat it between them. Angie placed the popcorn bowl by the speaker and handed him his drink. She smiled to herself as her plan unfolded better than she had even hoped. Art relaxed and conceded, “Actually, this ain’t a half bad idea, Ang.”

“I am nothing if not clever,” she replied between bites of popcorn. 

The credits started rolling as the movie began. Both Art and Angie oohed and aahed at all the right moments. Before either of them knew it, the movie ended. Art turned and replaced the speaker on the pole while Angie slid off the hood and deposited the empty containers into a trash can not far away. Art opened the door for her. “Thanks,” she smiled as she slipped in.

Art walked over to the other door, all his bravado lost through the course of the movie. When he got in, Angie smiled genuinely at him, “Thanks Art, this was actually a lot of fun.”

He nodded and looked at her, “Yeah, it really was.” He started the car and they made their way back home. It was late. Angie was not quite sure what time it was but it had been dark for at least a couple hours. By the time they made it back to Angie’s neighborhood, the only lights were streetlights and the lights in her living room windows. It was dark in the car. Art put it in park and shifted his hands on the steering wheel. Angie sighed and looked down at her lap. “Look, Art, I know it didn’t start so great but I had a nice time.”

He smiled at her, “So did I.”

Angie wrung her hands together in her lap, feeling suddenly very awkward. “Well, anyway, thanks. I’ll see ya.”

She reached for the door handle and Art’s hand stopped her. She sighed and turned to look at him. “Art, please don’t. It was a nice night, don’t ruin it.”  
His breathing changed and a dark look played across his face. Angie tried to gently pull her hand free. Art pulled her nearly onto his lap. Angie pushed away from his barrel chest. He leaned forward and tried to kiss her. She turned her face and he grazed her cheek. Her heart raced, her palms started sweating. She felt his hands go damp around her wrist and he pulled at her again. “Art, stop please.”

She tried to stay as calm as possible. He growled at her, “I told you I’d have you one way or another. Now this can be easy or rough. Pick right now.”

Angie squirmed away. “Don’t do this, Art. You aren’t that guy.”

“The fuck you think you know me?” he spat and slapped Angie.

His breathing became more rapid. Angie kept trying to pull back away. She put her feet up in between them and pushed. She wrenched her arm away. His grip gave slightly and she fell back against the passenger door, banging her shoulder into the handle. Art’s breathing was coming rapid and shallow. He clawed at his neck and opened and closed his mouth like a fish flopping on land. “Art?” Angie asked, “You okay?”

She leaned toward him hesitantly, afraid it was some trick. In the dim light, she saw his eyes were bulging, the tiny red veins popping against the white. He strangled out an attempt at a scream. Art grabbed at Angie who backed away. She tried to open the car door to get out but she had bent the inside handle when she hit it. She banged on the door and screamed, “Daddy! Mama!”

Over and over she banged on the window and screamed while Art clawed desperately at his throat. Her parents burst out their front door, her father holding a shot gun in his hands. Angie kept beating on the door. “Daddy! Help!”

Over her shoulder, Art dropped against the steering wheel. Angie jumped and screamed again. Her father jerked open the car door. A rush of wind threw him backwards, knocking the gun from his hands. Angie was sobbing as she stumbled out of the car. “Daddy, I think he’s dead. You gotta help him!” she cried, eyes slammed shut.

“Oh my god,” her mother gasped.

Angie wiped the tears away from her eyes and slowly opened them. She was floating. A miniature whirlwind was holding her above the ground. Angie’s eyes widened, 

“Mama, what’s happening?”

Angie’s mother slowly approached her daughter and extended her hand to her. “Come on bambina. Give me your hand.”  
Angie reached out. Her dad got to his feet. He looked around the neighborhood at lights slowly turning on. He sighed, “Get her in the house,” and crawled into the car.

He shoved Art’s body to the side and drove the car around back to the garage. He came in the backdoor just as Angie’s mother was wrapping a blanket around Angie’s shoulders. The series of events that followed, Angie was still hard pressed to recall. Her father made a phone call to someone. They spoke in harsh whispers. Shock was settling firmly over Angie’s body and she shook from an internal cold that would not lift. Her mother held her and rocked her. Her father disappeared again out of the back door. She heard a car start and drive off then two men in black suits came into the living room. They looked like Mafioso. Angie knew they were talking to her but she did not hear a word of what they said. The next thing she knew, she felt a pinch on her arm and was drifting out of consciousness. She felt hands lift her once then set her down what felt like days later.

Angie woke up in a white room. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. Her mouth tasted like old socks. She blinked, adjusting to the light in the room. Then it hit her. Panic gripped her stomach. Her breath came in raspy gasps, her eyes wildly searching for something familiar. A voice played over a speaker in the corner of the room. “Miss Martinelli, you need to calm down. Take some deep breaths.”

Angie looked down at a tornado that swirled at her feet. She screamed. The speaker clicked again and the voice resumed, “Calm yourself. No one is going to harm you. Your parents sent you here so we could help you.”

Angie took deep breaths and felt her heartbeat settle back to normal. She felt her bare feet touch cold concrete again. “Very good,” the voice resumed.

“Where am I?” Angie asked fighting a batch of tears.

“Crisalide,” the voice replied flatly.

“What’s that?” Angie willed her voice calm. She took more deep breaths.

“In due time. You have been blessed with amazing gifts, Miss Martinelli. We simply wish to help you learn to use them.”  
Angie paced the room. Her eyes still held a frantic edge to them though she focused her breathing. She sat down at the desk across from her bed. “When can I see my parents?”

She waited in silence and searched for the speaker the voice was pouring through. She found it in the top corner of the room. There were no windows and only one large metal door. The speaker crackled, “That depends on you, my dear.”

It was a new voice. A female voice. The other voice had been deep and nearly robotic. This voice was a silky alto that relaxed Angie. Angie nodded, feeling, suddenly very sleepy.

“Oh God,” Angie cried as she walked back to the bed, “Art. Did I kill Art?” she collapsed on it.

“Yes. I’m sorry but your boyfriend is dead.”

Angie’s eyes went wild again but she schooled her breath and counted in her head to keep it steady. He wasn’t my boyfriend, she thought.

“Very good, Mulinello.”

Angie scrunched her eyebrows, “Whirlwind?”

“That’s your new name.”

Angie fought a fresh batch of tears and sank back against the bed, letting her eyes close.

“Sleep now, child. Your training begins in the morning,” the silky voice lulled her to sleep.

Angie dreamed of Art and her parents, their looks of terror, at her. She woke hours later with wet cheeks from where she had cried in her sleep. A white sweat suit was pushed through the slot in her door. She carefully got up and walked to pick up the gift. The cold concrete forced her more awake. She ran her hand over the cotton and looked around the room. Her stomach grumbled at her. Static hissed over the speaker. “To your left is a door,” it was the man with the robot voice.  
Angie looked over. She was surprised to find it true and walked toward it. “Please shower and change. Your breakfast will be waiting when you return.”  
Angie nodded and entered the little bathroom with a metal toilet, small shower stall and sink. It was all dark silver in contrast to the bright white of the rest of her cell. When she stepped out of the shower, she pulled the sweats on and found there was clean underwear hidden between the shirt and pants, as well as socks. She pulled down the shirt and noticed the word Crisalide over her left breast. She turned around in front of the mirror to read Mulinello in large black block letters across her back.

After she slipped the socks on her feet, she walked out of the bathroom. A plate of food sat on her desk and a pair of brown boots stood on the floor. She rushed to the food and shoved the eggs, bacon and biscuit in her mouth in large, near choking bites. She coughed as she finished chewing the last bite and leaned down to put on the boots. As she finished lacing the boots, the speaker crackled and the lady voice greeted her, “Good morning, Mulinello. How are you feeling today?”  
Angie nodded to the room, not sure if they were able to see her, but assuming so. “Good,” the confirmation came, “Now someone will be entering your room to bring you to the training areas. We need you to be compliant or we will have to use force. Do you understand?”

Angie’s eyelids felt heavy again and she nodded, “I understand,” she replied in a dream like haze.

“I look forward to meeting you,” the woman smiled. Angie slumped against the desk, her limbs felt like jelly.

The woman in the control room smiled at the camera. She brushed her black hair over her shoulder. “Antonia, the rest of the recruits are gathered. You should meet them in the lobby,” the man with the robot voice said.

“Yes, yes,” she purred, still looking at Angie, “I look forward to breaking that one,” she nodded at the screen, “Come Victor, we’ve young minds to mold.”


	2. Incantatrice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took an unexpected turn. It got way darker than I intended. 
> 
> Trigger warnings for implied sexual assault, self-harm and deaths. (Most of these happen around Angie rather than to Angie so don't get too terribly freaked out. We are building a new universe here.)
> 
> I personally can't wait for this Angie to meet Dottie...just sayin'.

_Naples, Italy, 1938_

Angie woke up in a different room. She blinked her eyes to adjust and looked around her. Twenty—give or take—other kids about her age, some younger, were in various stages of consciousness. She took the moment to survey her surroundings. There seemed to be two exits, one at each end, each guarded by two large men with guns. They looked like some kind of military. An observation deck circled the area on the ground, a thick sheet of glass separated whoever would be watching from the children. Now that they were waking up, Angie noticed that they were all different. They all wore the same white sweat suits as Angie but their names across their backs were unique. One child with wild bright red hair, Bolide written on her back, tossed fireballs at the glass, screaming. Angie curled into herself. Other children curled into balls and cried. Angie backed away from the rising riot, keeping an eye on the observation deck. She slipped to the wall. Her hands wandered along cold concrete behind her. She was underneath the far side of the observation deck. Faint clicking over her head told her someone had entered. She leaned forward slightly to try and see.

Speakers in each corner of the room crackled and droned with feedback. The lady with the smooth voice addressed them. Angie found herself drawn to the sound and pulled away from the wall involuntarily. “Good morning,” Angie smiled at the smile that floated down to them. One by one the kids moved to the center of the room and all stared dreamily in the woman’s direction, “My name is Antonia, welcome to Crisalide. You are all very special and we want to help make sure you learn just how special you are.”

Antonia scanned the crowd. They ranged in age from 13 to 18, both boys and girls, some came from rich families—she knew—some from poor, but all were Italian, born in Italy or abroad, they all shared that feature. Victor leaned over to Antonia and whispered in her ear. She nodded, “Now I need all my boys on the right, if you will and my girls on the left.”

The children drifted dreamily to their sides of the room as a metallic cranking filled the room, breaking the trance for only a handful—three older boys and one girl. Angie suddenly looked around herself, frightened. She shuddered as a metal wall thudded against the ground right beside her. She looked up to the deck and that voice. She was all legs from this angle, Angie felt a warmth in her stomach and shifted uncomfortably. The woman, Antonia, smiled down at Angie and whispered to her colleague, Angie assumed he was the robot voice man. He turned toward Angie, who stared unabashedly and smiled a wide toothy metallic sneer at her. Angie recoiled. The speakers clicked again, robot voice had the microphone. “Boys, my name is Victor but you must call me Metallo Bocca.”

Angie raised her eyebrows at the very obvious name and snorted. Two older girls breaking out of the trance inclined their heads to Angie. This drew Victor’s attention. He sneered again and Angie shivered. He turned back to the boys and gave them instructions. Angie zoned out, her thoughts returning to the woman next to him. She wondered what her other name was. The other girls slowly started talking around her. She looked once at them but eventually turned back to Antonia. Her long black hair was braided and hung over her shoulder. From what Angie could tell when she squinted, she had very pale brown, maybe hazel eyes. Her lips were painted bright red that looked like a bloody cut across her face. She wore a very tight black dress that seemed to suction itself to all her curves. Angie cleared her throat and looked away, finally at the other girls on her side of the room. They all huddled together, some speaking strangled Italian to each other. She picked up some words every now and again but she seemed to be the only American. She slinked back to the wall and wrapped her arms around herself and sighed. She wondered how long she had been there, how long each of them had been. Some looked like they knew each other. She wondered if that was from here or the outside. Crisalide is not a word she recognized.

Antonia scanned through the female recruits. She laughed at the word, as if they had a choice. Bolide was going to cause problems, she could already tell. Some of them looked so young. Her eyes roamed idly until they landed on Angie, leaning defiantly against the wall. Her lips curved into an involuntary smile. The girl reminded Antonia a bit of herself when she had first arrived many years ago. She was 13 when she got there, younger than Mulinello, but that was 8 years ago. She toyed with her braid, rolling it over her fingers. Angie looked up at her and Antonia smiled. Victor nudged Antonia’s arm and she startled but turned smoothly to him. 

“Get on with it,” his voice irritated her, metal rattling against metal. 

It was a stark contrast from her own voice. She took the microphone, clicked the button and purred, “Giovani donne, my name is Antonia as you already know, but please call me Incantatrice.”

Angie crinkled her nose, trying to think, Antonia seemed to stare at only her for a moment before smiling at the rest of the girls, “Enchantress, for our American friends.”

The girls looked around at each other to see if they could pinpoint the American. Their eyes settled firmly on the red head. She protested in Italian, quite violently, igniting a flame in her hand. Angie did not pick up every word but knew enough to know the girl was very insulted at the insinuation. She made a mental note of this; Angie knew how to hide, perhaps better than anyone so she stayed quiet and turned her narrowed eyes back to “Enchantress.”

Metal Mouth and Enchantress directed them to break into groups by age. The girls shuffled about. The largest group was made up of 13 year olds. Angie stood stoically next to Bolide. They both crossed their arms over their chests. They were the oldest in the room. The girl asked her, in Italian, when was her birthday. Angie replied that she would turn 17 in August, the girl sneered. Angie asked her when was hers. The girl replied that she had just turned 16. Angie nodded. She knew enough Italian to make small talk but that was about the extent of it. Her family had worked very hard to Americanize, coming close to go so far as changing their surname. Angie’s grandfather had talked them out of it. He was the only one who still fluently spoke Italian in their family.

Victor was giving directions to the boys, Angie was vaguely paying attention to the rapid Italian that he spat into the microphone. She leaned to Bolide and asked her how long she had been there. She replied that it had been at least a month. The girl asked Angie the same. Angie shrugged and said she was not sure. _Long enough to make up a name and a shirt for me._ The girl rattled on in Italian. Angie only paid attention to pieces. She managed to catch that the girl had accidentally set fire to her bedroom during a particular temper tantrum. Angie snorted at that. The girl stopped talking after that and they shifted away from one another, arms still crossed defensively over their chests. Victor finally handed the microphone over to Antonia. A cacophony of grunts, thumps and explosions erupted next door, making Angie jump. “Un momento per favore, donne,” Antonia smiled.

Angie’s eyes glazed over and a smile settled on her lips. One particular crash threw Angie out of the trance. She gasped and stared wildly around her. She started hyperventilating when she registered screaming from across the wall. The girls around her had grins on their faces. Angie felt herself rising from the ground. She yelped. Antonia turned her attention to the girl’s side. The girls all started making choking noises, their eyes still glassy. Angie tried to breathe and could not seem to make her heart calm in her chest. She thought it would explode. “Mulinello, bella, look at me,” Antonia purred.

Angie’s eyes still darted wildly as the screaming next door quieted. “Angela, look at me,” Antonia repeated.

“Get control of her or we put her down,” Victor growled.

The guards doubled over, grabbing at their throats, eyes bulging. Some of the smaller girls collapsed, the lack of oxygen causing them to pass out. Antonia bolted forward and beat on the glass. Angie turned her face to the sound and took a deep breath. She floated up toward the noise. The whirlwind grew louder. “Look at me, Angie. I need you to calm down. Can you take some deep breaths for me? Can you do that?” Antonia pleaded.

Angie’s chest shuddered under the breath she inhaled. She sank a little lower to the ground. The girls around her gasped breaths. A few of the smaller ones lay limp on the floor. The guards rushed forward and knocked Angie on the head with the butt of a gun. She collapsed to the ground. The whirlwind dissipated beneath her. The girls all looked at each other frantically, terrified of Angie. Even Bolide had a look of fear plastered on her face.

Angie groaned and rubbed the back of her head. She was back in her room. She sighed in relief. The heavy metal door shuddered and opened. Angie involuntarily curled into a ball on the bed, trying desperately to stay calm. Her eyes had difficulty focusing. She wondered if maybe she had been rocked a little too hard by the blow. The blow. She remembered the guard’s face and felt a thump at the back of her head. She brought her hand back to her head then brought it down to look at it. She came away with blood. She set her jaw. Antonia walked into the room. The guards eyed Angie angrily. The muscles in her jaw worked as anger slowly built in all her muscles. “How are you feeling, bella?” Antonia asked as she glided to kneel at Angie’s bedside.

Angie shook her head and fought the fog that threatened her. Antonia put her hand on Angie’s arm and she jerked away. The woman’s face fell at the venom roiling off Angie. “Are you forcing us to kill one another?” she spat.

Antonia stared into Angie’s blue eyes. She reached out her hand to stroke Angie’s hair. “No, bella. Not kill. We train you to control yourselves. Us to control ourselves,” she corrected and Angie relaxed under the touch and voice.

Angie fought. Her mind railed against relaxing. She blinked angrily. “You are strong. If you can remain calm, I won’t use my gifts on you. Can we do that?” Antonia smiled.

“Yes,” Angie replied and loosened the death grip she had on her knees.

“Fabuloso,” Antonia purred, her voice held no pull this time. Angie relaxed more. “May I look at your head?” Antonia asked, rising on her knees.

Angie turned her head and let the woman look. She tsked, “You must learn to control yourself, Angela.”

Angie put her head on her knees. “Did I hurt anyone?” she asked quietly.

Antonia sank back down on her knees and pulled back. “Si, bella.”

Angie closed her eyes, “How bad?”

Antonia put her hand on Angie’s cheek. It was a gentle touch, Angie turned her face to look at the golden brown eyes. “The truth?” Antonia asked.

Angie nodded. “You killed five.”

Angie paled. Her whole body rocked from the sobs that escaped her. “Bella,” Antonia choked, “You…must…”

“Oh God,” Angie screamed and calmed her breathing. Antonia gasped. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” Angie cried.

The door burst open and two guards rushed in. Antonia threw up her hand, nearly yelling, “Don’t!”

They stopped in their tracks, placid smiles on their faces. Antonia’s gaze narrowed and she whipped at Angie. “You must control these outbursts or they will put you down,” she said sternly.

Angie’s eyes widened and she nodded. Antonia nodded and turned. “Enchantress, wait,” Angie called.

She turned to stare down at Angie. “How long have I been here?” Angie asked.

Antonia smiled, “Two months.”

“Two months?” Angie slumped.

“Si, bella,” Antonia waved her hand and the guards followed her out of the room, smiling dopily.

“Two months?” Angie repeated. The room hissed and Angie relaxed back against her bed and slept.

Angie startled awake, the faces of dead girls swirled in her vision. She gasped in the darkness. The lights in the room slowly came on. Angie squinted involuntarily. She swung her legs off the bed and padded over to the bathroom. She used the toilet and stared at her reflection as she washed her hands. She striped down and got into the shower. The water rushed over her and her eyes fluttered closed. When she went to wash her hair, she remembered the knot. Her hand came away caked in rewetted blood. She shampooed her hair, grimacing as the soap hit the slowly closing wound. It was just freshly scabbed from the feel of it. She assumed she had only slept through the night and not another two months. _Two months?_ she thought to herself.

A sob wracked her body and she let herself sink to the ground. She wondered quietly how many people she had killed or injured in the time since Art. She pounded her fist against the metal in the basin of the shower. She hit and screamed. Hit and screamed. Hit and screamed until she was hoarse and both fists were bleeding. The speaker crackled, Metal Mouth screamed over the intercom, “Calm the fuck down, American bitch!”

Angie turned drowning blue eyes in the direction of the speaker, her pupils: pinpricks. Guards wearing oxygen masks rushed the bathroom. Angie’s eyes narrowed and the two men collapsed in heaps of gasping and groaning. “Bella, please. Release them,” Antonia pleaded, her voice high and fear filled.

Angie leaned back in the shower. The men gasped. She looked at the ceiling. In the light, she saw it. “You watch me in the bathroom too? Sick fucks,” Angie sneered and walked out to the main room over the gasping bodies. She pulled a sweat suit from the drawer across from her bed. She slipped it on and looked all around her room for the second camera. In each corner there was one. Angie conjured a whirlwind and floated close. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

She sat down on the whirlwind and floated idly as the guards regained their composure and ran from the room. In the control room, Antonia stifled a laugh behind her hand. Victor reached out and slapped her hard across the face. A red mark blossoming immediately. “You warn the bitch,” Victor sneered, holding Antonia’s face between his fingers, “She acts out again I’ll put her down myself. You’re accustomed with my methods,” he licked his lips.

Antonia involuntarily jerked away and closed her eyes. Her breathing was rapid as he laughed in a metallic thrum and stalked out of the room. A tear slipped from her eye. She wiped it away as she composed herself and marched back to the cameras to look down on Angie, still floating on her whirlwind. She clicked the intercom to Angie’s room and whispered to her, “You must calm down, bella, please,” she purred.

The whirlwind lowered. A smile twitched at the corners of Angie’s face. She walked docilely to her bed and curled on her side, then shut her eyes. Antonia breathed in relief and watched the girl sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crisalide in Italian means Chrysalis.


	3. Crisalide

_Deal, Kent, England, October 29, 1940_

“You understand your mission?” Metal Mouth shouted over the roaring of the Caproni Ca. 133 engines.

They all nodded. Bolide, slid the gloves off her hands, fire ignited in both palms. Metal Mouth nodded and Bolide began hurling fireballs at the ground one after the other while the lone bomber plane dropped three high explosive bombs in quick succession. Angie stared wide eyed, at the destruction that lay in their wake as the rippling of the bombs exploding rocked the transport plane. Bolide continued sending fireballs down all around what Angie later found out had been a marine mess hall. A hail of gunfire erupted in their direction. “Mulinello!” Metal Mouth yelled over the near deafening sound.

Angie stepped to the open door and called up a tornado. The anti-aircraft bullets hit the air and swirled feebly in the cyclone. Angie scanned the ground for the guns. She found them and imagined the oxygen sucked out from the space all around. The firing ceased. Metal Mouth clapped Angie on the back. The tornado provided protection for their plane until they got over the ocean as they made their way back to Belgium. They stopped there to refuel and heard about the fate of the rest of the fighters from the attack. _So much useless death,_ Angie sighed to herself. She knew the Americans had to be close to joining the war. A very small part of her still held hope that they would find the Crisalide facility and Angie could go home. Of course, that was wishful thinking.

_Naples, Italy, September 1943_

The alarms blared through the facility. Angie ran down the long hallway with her hands over her ears. Bolide fell in step beside her and shouted in Italian, “There’s an uprising in the city. The Germans are being ousted. We have to evacuate.”

Bolide ran on ahead. Angie looked around her as the newest recruits stumbled over each other trying to find exits. Angie sighed and ran in their direction. She imagined they were all barely into puberty. She shouted over their screaming and managed to get them to form a line and marched them in the direction after Bolide. A boy from Angie’s group came up beside them and offered to lead the group to the exit. Angie nodded and went back to the training room to make sure it was evacuated. The room was empty and she looked up at the observation deck. Metal Mouth had a gun to Antonia’s head and appeared to be shouting. Angie ran out and ascended the staircase. She called up a whirlwind and pushed through the door toward them. “Mulinello, return to your duties. I am handling the traitor,” he barked in Italian. 

Angie stepped forward, behind the whirlwind, “Should she not face a tribunal for her actions?”

Angie’s Italian had drastically improved over her five year captivity though everyone knew she was American, they feared her enough to never give her grief over it. She guessed she had choked the air out of enough people’s lungs that they finally realized it was best to give Angie a wide berth. Metal Mouth had never shown any hesitancy around her. She was not quite sure how she could handle this but she knew she had to help the one person who had been kind to her. Metal Mouth fired. Angie made the bullet fall with a ting at Antonia’s knees. Antonia shuddered. Metal Mouth turned his gaze at Angie. She pulled the oxygen away from him. He grinned wider, tapping the gun to his teeth. “It’s not just my mouth, Mulinello.”

The distraction was accomplishing what she wanted though and Antonia was sliding backward towards Angie. Suddenly, the whirlwind dissipated and popped up again between Antonia and Metal Mouth. She got to her feet and ran behind Angie. “Can’t you charm him?” Angie asked.

Antonia was breathing fast, holding onto Angie’s shoulders. “He’s immune.”

“Shit,” Angie whispered and fumbled in her pocket, “Get out with the others I’ll distract him…somehow.”

Antonia scrambled away through the door and down the hall. She looked up at the observation deck. Metal Mouth stared down at her with a snarl. He raised his gun and hurled himself through the whirlwind. As soon as she saw his arm burst through, she stopped the wind and ducked to the side. He crashed headlong into the door behind Angie. He laughed and it tinged along his gullet. Angie flicked open the top of the lighter and lit the flame. “What do you think you’re going to do with that?” he abandoned Italian and spoke to her in English.

“It’s not just oxygen I can manipulate,” Angie smiled.

She tossed the lighter at the man and all around him burst into flames. Angie’s eyes narrowed and she focused on pulling hydrogen all around his body. He screamed and it buzzed along his metal throat. She watched as the skin melted off his face. He fell on his knees and clawed out of the flames, grasping in the direction of Angie’s legs. He collapsed as the flesh ate away from his bones. When the yelling stopped, Angie extinguished the fire and approached him cautiously. Her eyes burned as she kicked at the bones and shiny metal gullet that remained. She covered her nose from the smell. He looked a bit like overdone barbeque and she swore to herself that if she ever got home, she would never eat the stuff again. Angie exhaled a breath she had not known she was holding and stepped over his body and raced down the stairs and out the exit.

The evacuation exit did not lead outside, rather to a set of tunnels that snaked under the city. She was the last one out of the facility, it seemed and no one was anywhere to be seen. She debated crawling up one of the hatches and escaping. Surrendering herself to the first American soldier she found, but this was a war and despite being a woman, she was wearing distinctly military attire. There was no certainty that they would not kill her on sight and ask questions later. So, reluctantly, she followed the tunnels to their eventual end. As she drew closer, she heard frantic hushed whispers. She put her head around the corner and relaxed when she saw it was the Crisalide evacuees. Angie pulled away from the shadow of the curve and pushed forward to Bolide and Antonia. “What’s the problem?” she whispered.

“Listen, your American friends are in the building,” Bolide accused.

Angie sighed and tilted her head toward the hidden door. She could barely make out whispers so she pulled herself up the ladder rungs to place her ear against the metal. “All clear, Dum Dum,” a chipper voice called.

Angie’s heart beat fast in her chest. She looked down at the expectant eyes staring at her and returned her ear. “Radio to Colonel Phillips and Agent Carter that the base is secure and they really ought to see this,” the man Angie assumed was Dum Dum replied.

Boots pounded on the floor over her head and Angie found herself praying that these men would not find the door beneath their feet. The walking continued and a voice Angie thought she recognized from intercepted radio transmissions called out, “Hey Gabe, come look at this.”

The voice sounded terribly near Angie’s ear. She held her breath. “Whaddya find, Buck?”

Two sets of feet shuffled across the door. Angie heard clinks and clanks that sounded vaguely like filing cabinet drawers opening and closing. Bolide pulled on  
Angie’s leg and started to speak. Angie threw her finger up over her lips nearly hitting the door in the process. Angie sighed and carefully lowered her arm back down. “Colonel Phillips, Agent Carter,” another voice in the room shouted.

Angie heard a distinct clacking of heels against metal. Her eyebrows scrunched together and she listened. “What have we found, gentlemen?” the woman asked.

“English?” Angie muttered.

“Documentation. Something called Project Crisalide, whatever that means, some letters back and forth between Mussolini and Hitler, that sort of thing.”

“Chrysalis,” Peggy said, “Crisalide means chrysalis. Would you care to pass me those papers, please, Mr. Jones?”

“All right fellas, clear out the room and meet back at camp in one hour to debrief.”

Several pairs of boots clicked together followed by a “Sir, yes, sir.”

Angie lowered herself back down the rungs and motioned for everyone to slowly back away down the tunnels. She motioned Antonia, Bolide and two boys called Calcio and Pugno—kick and punch, not very original—to join her slightly apart from the rest of the children. Angie sighed, “The Americans are clearing out the room. They found documents about Crisalide. Are there any other safe houses?”

Calcio and Pugno shrugged and shook their heads. Bolide answered, “There was talk of one in the woods, a few miles outside Naples.”

Antonia nodded in agreement, “If we go back, there’s a secret offshoot of this tunnel. We could get to that camp in an hour, provided the children can keep up.”

“A secret tunnel in a secret tunnel, of course,” Angie rolled her eyes, “Calcio and Pugno, you bring up the rear, make sure none of the kids gets left. Bolide, you protect the front. Incantatrice and I will scout to make sure the coast is clear. I’ll send back a whirlwind for you guys once we clear it. Okay?”

They all nodded and made their way to disperse bits of the information to the older children to help herd. Angie and Antonia jogged back down the tunnel toward the offshoot. They did not speak to one another. Angie kept her eyes scanning the broad tunnel around them. This one was wider than the previous. Antonia sighed and stopped walking. Angie noticed her boots making the only noise. “What are you doing?” Angie asked.

“Grazie, bella,” Antonia said, “For helping me with Victor.”

Angie shook her head, “Not now. We gotta get these kids out then be sure we are having a very serious conversation.”

Antonia nodded and resumed walking. She fell into step with Angie. They reached the ladder out in well under an hour. Angie climbed the rungs and put her cheek against the cold metal to listen. She did not hear anything so she tentatively lifted the door. It fell with a thud and she cringed at the clumsiness. Angie cautiously pulled herself out through the door. The forest seemed empty then she heard it. Tires crunching on leaves. Angie motioned for Antonia to stay hidden. She got as close as she could and hid behind a tree. Tents were slowly going up. The company was moving to create a camp. “Shit,” Angie whispered.

She watched for a moment. A table was plopped onto the ground under a large tent. An older man tossed folders onto the table and barked orders at soldiers as he stalked away. Angie’s eyes followed him until she saw her. Angie did not hear Antonia come up behind her. Antonia put her hand on Angie’s shoulder. Angie gasped and jumped. Antonia scanned the camp. “A woman?” she asked quietly.

Antonia rolled her eyes, finally understanding what had drawn Angie’s attention for so long. “Come bella, it looks like we will have to wait for sundown.”

Angie nodded and pulled away from the tree. She and Antonia snuck back to the tunnels and lowered themselves back in. “I think those are the ones from the safe house,” Angie said as they backtracked to the main group, “I’m fairly certain I saw the files they took from there. It may be worth it to try and get them. What do you think?”

Antonia sighed and rubbed her temples, “I think it’s too dangerous.”

Angie shook her head, “Don’t you think it’s more dangerous for them to find out about us and what we can do?”

“We should talk to the others about it before we make a decision. I’m not a traitor,” and there it was, the conversation Angie was not ready for, not yet, “I just believe in an Italy that doesn’t support a regime that slaughters millions.”

“So what? You’re working with the Americans? Why not just turn us all in then?” Angie stopped walking.

“Why not throw open the hatch and surrender yourself to the Americans earlier. You’re American they should’ve taken you with open arms,” Antonia returned.

“You know it’s not that simple,” Angie sighed.

“I do and I merely used my gifts to encourage some influential people. I’m not interested in becoming the puppet of another country.”

Angie understood. Antonia was one of the only people she had met in the last five years that she actually understood. She reached out and took Antonia’s hand and squeezed it. They walked hand in hand for half a mile then pulled apart shielding their eyes from a massive fireball. “Bolide, what are you doing?” Angie asked.

“It has been more than an hour. I came looking,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“We’re gonna have to wait until sunset before we can sneak through. The Americans are setting up camp half a mile in the opposite direction of the bunker,” Angie replied.

Bolide nodded, her eyes narrowed as she looked between Angie and Antonia. Angie was fairly certain that Bolide had some kind of strange crush on her that came out in odd possessive movements and looks. Angie was one of the only people who could extinguish Bolide’s flame and she was fairly certain that Bolide had found that to be a major turn on. Angie sighed as Bolide placed herself in between Angie and Antonia. Antonia rolled her eyes and walked on up ahead.

They led the group back down the tunnel and waited for night to fall. Angie again found herself pushing open the door to the tunnels, careful this time not to let it clang to the ground. She poked her head out the opening and looked around. Lights shone to the left in the distance which she knew to be the American camp. Angie pulled herself out and began helping everyone follow. When Calcio and Pugno finally pulled through, she nodded in the direction of the bunker and told them to tell Bolide and Incantatrice that she would be there shortly. They nodded reluctantly and jogged to catch up. Angie snuck back in the direction of the camp. She crouched behind a tree and watched the movements of the guards as they surveyed the perimeter. 

The camp was mostly quiet. Everyone but the guards quietly sleeping. Angie focused and reduced the oxygen around the guards. They softly fell to the ground and nothing moved. Angie tiptoed forward and snuck to the tent where the files had been earlier in the day. It was a gamble. If they were not there she would simply sneak back out. An older man slept on a cot near the table where she had seen the papers. His jacket over the side of the cot read Phillips. Angie stalked past him and rifled through the papers quickly. _Shit,_ she cursed, _not here anymore._

She slipped back out of the tent under the cover of darkness and looked around. She wondered where the woman she had nicknamed English in her head slept. She thought it might be in there. Angie crept toward a small tent next to the large one and the sleeping Colonel. She pulled back the curtain and snuck inside. The tent was empty but the files she was searching for were sitting right there on the table. All she had to do was—then she felt a gun against her back. She slowly raised her arms and turned, speaking as she did, “I’m an American. I was taken against my will. Please help me.”

The shadowed figure uncloaked and Angie stared into big brown eyes. Her breath caught. “On your knees,” Peggy commanded.

Angie dropped to her knees and continued speaking, “I was taken from New York in 1938 for Project Crisalide. I just want to get back to my family, please.”

A voice ticked from behind Peggy, “Oh my sweet girl,” Antonia started.

Peggy lowered the gun, a smile creeping across her face, she stared dreamily at Angie. “Thank God,” Angie whispered and slumped forward.

Antonia walked around Peggy and moved to stare at her. She leaned in close and tilted her head. Peggy smiled into space. Antonia began speaking, “You fell asleep. Go lay down. This was all a dream.”

Antonia moved to the side and watched Peggy walk to her bed, lay her gun down and pull the covers up over her shoulders. “Files are on the table,” Angie whispered as she rose.

Antonia turned and picked up the files marked Project Crisalide. Angie grabbed her by the arm and they ran from the tent and the camp until they were far enough into the woods that Angie felt safe enough to stop. Angie sighed and put her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. “I’ve never been more glad to see someone,” she smiled at Antonia.

Antonia walked calmly up to Angie. Angie straightened, Antonia reared back and slapped Angie across the face. “What were you thinking?” she hissed, “You could’ve died.”

Angie rubbed her cheek, “I’m sorry. I was trying to protect us.”

Antonia folded into Angie’s arms and cried. Angie stood very still and held her, confused by the sudden onslaught of emotion. Antonia sighed against Angie’s neck and laid a kiss in the crook. Goose pimples erupted on Angie’s arm, she shivered. Antonia smiled into Angie’s neck. “We should get back before they realize I am missing as well,” Antonia said, “There’s no telling if Victor told them he thought I was a traitor.”

Angie nodded and mentally added a second conversation to her growing list for Antonia. Angie whipped up a whirlwind to speed them along. Antonia held onto Angie’s arm as they floated to the bunker. Calcio squinted into the darkness as a roaring approached them. A smile spread across his face and he shouted down to his brother, “Mulinello e Incantatrice!”

The whirlwind dissipated and Angie and Antonia stepped onto the ground and into the bunker. Bolide was waiting for them, tapping her foot angrily. She rattled so fast in Italian, Angie missed a lot of it, fortunately Antonia responded calmly to her and Angie caught all of the response, “Angie and I returned to the American camp to retrieve the files they stole about us.”

A look of sheer possessive jealousy stormed across Bolide’s face as Antonia spoke and Angie could not help herself but laugh.


	4. Ombra

_Tarvisio, Italy, 1943_

“Well if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan. What is your plan today?” Colonel Phillips sneered.

Steve Rogers set his shoulders with purpose and did not back down, “I need the casualty list from Azzano,” he said firmly.

Phillips nearly had to choke a laugh at the incredulity, “You don’t give me orders, son.”

Ombra circled the tent careful not to bump into anyone. His limbs thrummed with excitement at being so close to caught. Adrenaline bursts coursed through his body, heightening his senses. He snuck into the tent at the height of the argument between Rogers and Phillips. Ombra nearly laughed out loud at the ridiculous red, white and blue nonsense the one called Rogers was wearing. His movements were jerky and bird-like as he flit around the room and hovered over the map along with Rogers to locate the HYDRA base. He also memorized the American camp locations across Northern Italy.

When Peggy and Steve removed themselves from the tent, Ombra snuck back out to the woods and let loose a giggle beyond the guards at the edge of the camp. He slipped quietly through the forest, save the occasional crunching of branches beneath his boots. About half a mile from the new Crisalide base, he uncloaked himself. General Santoro had yelled at his proclivity to simply appear at the front door. The General had threatened to shoot him on more than one occasion. The base appeared, for all intents and purposes to be dug out of a hill. It belied the size of the facility.

The doors clanked open and two armed military men nodded at Ombra as he entered. The boy smiled jerkily and galloped down the hall to the debriefing tank. Antonia, Bolide, Angie and the General sat around a table arguing. “You really want to waste time on some Russian bullshit, what the hell is it even called? Behemoth?” Angie brooded.

“Leviathan,” Bolide corrected, “And I think it bears investigating.”

Angie waved it off, “We need to take out this HYDRA everybody keeps buzzing about. They seem to have advanced weapons and a completely insane leader.”

The General sighed and rolled his eyes, “For Christ’s sake, shut up. All of you.”

Ombra cleared his throat. “Oh thank God,” Santoro muttered, “Report.”

Ombra flopped down onto a chair and kicked his legs up onto the table. Angie rolled her eyes. He puffed his chest up and started unloading, “Ok so the Americans got so much going on it’s a wonder they still have soldiers left,” he leaned forward abruptly and pulled the map toward him, “They got camps here, here, here and here,” he pointed, “and some idiota in red, white and blue looked like he was going to attack a HYDRA base, here,” he ended, pointing at Kreischburg.

Ombra leaned back with a self-satisfied grin on his face. Santoro looked at the marks Ombra made across the map and compared it to the pre-existing marks highlighting Leviathan and Nazi locations. The map had begun to look like a pointillism painting. He ticked and narrowed his eyes, “Bolide, Mulinello, you will follow the ‘flag man’ to the HYDRA base. Pugno and Antonia will infiltrate the Nazi camp at the Austrian border. Calcio and Ombra will be flown to Moscow to find what they can on Leviathan.”

“But, sir, all due respect but aren’t we spreading ourselves a little thin with this?” Angie’s eyebrows crinkled reactively.

General Santoro stood up and slapped his hands against the table, “Never question orders. You know the consequences. Now, report to your commanding officers.”

Angie’s jaw tightened, lips thinned and eyes narrowed. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. A dopey smile crossed over everyone’s faces and they all relaxed, Angie turned to look at Antonia, “Don’t do this bella. I know he’s an idiot too.”

“It’d be so easy to kill him,” Angie hissed.

“And who would be his replacement? Perhaps they would decide that we are a liability and just put us down like animals,” Antonia put her hand on Angie’s cheek and searched her eyes, “Bella, please.”

Angie sighed, “Fine,” she uncrossed her arms and looked at the General who shook the fog from his head. “Yes, sir,” Angie replied.

The General glared down at her but simply turned and left the room. Bolide crossed her arms, “They’re going to catch you one day, Incantatrice. You’ll be dumped in a grave with the rest of us they’ve killed over the years. You can’t keep fucking with their minds like you run the place.”

Antonia smiled sardonically, “Do I not?”

Bolide rolled her eyes, “I’ll be waiting, Mulinello,” she stomped out of the room with one last scathing glare for Antonia.

Ombra scurried out to find Calcio and let him in on the mission. Antonia and Angie stared at each other not speaking. Angie finally cut through the heavy atmosphere that had grown between them, “Be careful out there.”

Antonia smiled, a brief curling of the corners of her lips, “I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried for, bella.”

“Why?” Angie’s face quirked in confusion.

“Bolide is temperamental to say it nicely. This American man may pose a threat if he thinks he can storm a fortified base on his own.”

“Or he’s just a stupid American,” Angie laughed.

Antonia sighed, “You take nothing seriously.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise,” she smiled up at Antonia who involuntarily smiled and looked away, “Come back in one piece, okay?”

“You as well, Angela,” Antonia ducked her head and left the room.

Angie pushed away from the table and followed Antonia out of the room. She watched the woman walk down the hallway toward the dorms to find Pugno. Angie shoved her hands in the pockets of her sweat pants and headed the opposite direction. Bolide paced back and forth in front of the Lieutenant in charge of their mission. Angie felt a twinge of pity for the man. “Should we not eliminate a future threat if we see the opportunity? Ally or not,” she waved her hands at the man’s face.

A wave of relief washed across his features when he saw Angie stroll up. Angie put her hand on Bolide’s shoulder. The red head stiffened then relaxed when she heard Angie’s voice, “Lieutenant, what is so disagreeable?”

“The two of you are to make sure the base is destroyed but don’t kill the Americans,” he turned to glare at Bolide, “Any of them.”

“But the flag man could pose a threat to Italy in the future. Thinking solely about one mission is too short-sighted.”

“Flag man? Is that what we’re calling him? How about Captain America? Huh?” Angie winked.

“That’s even worse,” Bolide scoffed.

“The man is irrelevant to this mission, ladies,” the lieutenant rubbed his temples, a tic Angie noticed most people who interacted with Bolide developed, “The priority is to destroy the facility. The Generals do not believe that he poses a threat at the moment. Focus on the mission.”

“All right,” Angie shrugged, “When do we ship out?”

“You’ve thirty minutes to get changed. The plane will be ready to take you…”

“You know I can fly, right?” Angie interjected.

The Lieutenant stuttered, “I…well no…I was not informed.”

“It’ll be easier to sneak in if I do it myself,” Angie shrugged.

“Get changed and I’ll check with the General,” he paled.

Bolide looked at Angie, “Do these military men not communicate with one another?”

Angie’s shoulders rose and fell in time with her head shake, “Damned if I know. No wonder Italy had to change teams.”

Bolide scowled, “At least Italy chose a side from the beginning. The Americans just sat on their thumbs until Japan attacked them.”

Angie’s eyebrow jerked up, “You really wanna start this?”

Bolide’s eyes narrowed at the challenge. Angie glared back. Eventually Bolide waved her hands dismissively, “We need to change.”

Angie tugged on the leather around her neck. She hated how constricting the outfit felt. _Whoever thought putting women in neck to toe leather was a good idea beyond aesthetic purposes,_ Angie thought, _was a moron. It looks good but it’s hot as hell._ Bolide stretched her arms all around then followed it with squats to loosen the death grip the material had on her curves. Angie quirked her head to the side to watch. She may have considered the woman a headache, but there was no denying she was something to look at until Antonia walked through the room and any thought of Bolide slipped away to nothing. Her long dark hair was pulled in a severe braid. Unlike Bolide, Antonia’s features were soft and full. Angie’s stomach fluttered. She looked back at Bolide, trying to will the red out of her cheeks. Bolide was glaring angrily at Antonia. Angie cleared her throat, “Why do you hate her?”

Bolide shot Angie a vitriolic glare, “Why do you not?”

Angie shrugged noncommittally as the lieutenant rejoined them. It had, in fact, not been communicated that Angie’s gift mastery had increased to the point of flight. “I’m a quick learner,” she winked.

The lieutenant had abandoned all pretenses at hiding his awe. He had been at the Crisalide post for barely two weeks. Bolide shifted uncomfortably next to Angie, “Are you sure it’s not better to just take a plane?”

“Scared?” Angie grinned broadly.

“No,” Bolide replied flatly, “Just concerned that you’ll expend all your energy and have none to help me destroy the base.”

“Haven’t you figured out how to use your fire to fly yet?” Angie poked the bear and her grin got even wider.

Bolide’s face turned a shade darker than her hair, “Of course I have, asshole, but don’t you think it would draw a little too much attention to see a ball of flame and a tornado screaming across the countryside?”

“Oh please, honey, the tornado’s just for show,” Angie levitated and bolted around the hangar.

The lieutenant stared wide eyed and slack jawed. Bolide’s eyes narrowed further to slits. “Show off. Can we go?”

“You love it,” Angie purred into Bolide’s ear and pulled her close against her hip.

Angie shifted the air around the two of them and they rose into the sky and jetted out the hangar. Bolide fought a scream as she fumbled for the goggles on top of her head. She was finally able to pull them over her eyes so she could see where they were going, she looked up at Angie who already had the spectacles in place and wore a broad smile. Bolide’s face reddened again and she shook her head angrily. “Must you hold me so tightly?” she complained.

“I can let you go if you want?” Angie smirked.

“No!” Bolide squealed, “I mean can you just loosen up a little? It’s hard to breathe.”

“Oh, sorry,” Angie loosened her grip.

“Thank you.”

They cascaded over the trees in a blur of speed. Angie kept near the tree line so she could drop down if she needed to and it so happened at one point that they needed to. A small plane roared over their heads. Angie dropped to the top branches of a tree and waited until it passed then took off again without warning. Bolide lurched and wrapped her arms around Angie’s waist. Angie snorted which the other woman fortunately did not hear. Ahead, they watched a figure fall out of the plane. Angie lowered them to the ground in a clear area. Bolide watched the man plummet and Angie watched the plane make a wide circle back.

The trail of bodies the flag man left in his wake impressed even Bolide who kept saying to Angie that they should kill him if they got the chance. Angie ignored her and wiped the oxygen from the room ahead of them. The soldiers inside fell to the ground, clutching their throats until finally their eyes went wide and they stilled. Angie pulled a key from a guard Bolide had scorched and opened the door. “Holy shit!” Angie gaped.

They looked around at the giant glowing wheels all around them. They snuck along the walls with Bolide taking out cameras along the way. She greedily eyed the technology around them and regretted the lack of foresight of her superiors. An alarm blared around them. “Shit,” Angie cursed, “We need to get to the control room.”

A large group of men screamed through the front gates, destroying everything in their wake. The pair snuck around the distraction they provided and found their way to the empty, open control room. Angie went for the controls. Several timers were counting down, “They set off a self-destruct,” she said to Bolide who guarded the door.

“Great,” she replied and disappeared down the hall.

“Bolide! Fuck!” Angie hissed and took off after her.

Bolide slipped into a room and let Angie run past her. She snuck out the door and ran back toward the open main room. Bolide kept against a wall, in the shadows, and looked around for signs of the flag man. She grinned as he emerged with a limping man. They ran to an area to cross to the opposite side of the room. A man wearing a HYDRA uniform stepped out and talked to them. She was too far away to hear anything. Bolide did not hear Angie come up behind her until she spoke, “Did that man just peel his face off?” the incredulity not hidden from her voice.

Bolide nodded slowly. The bombs exploded now and she watched the two men try to ascend a ladder. Bolide ignited a flame in her hands. Angie suppressed the oxygen around Bolide’s hands and the flames went out. The woman growled at Angie, “He’s right there, don’t be stupid.”

Angie grabbed Bolide around the waist and flew them through the explosions, altering the flows of oxygen around them to keep the flames at bay. “That’s not the mission,” she yelled over the booms. They emerged on the other side and Angie flew them straight back to Tarvisio. Angie flew them back faster than she realized she could. They arrived at the hangar. Angie dropped Bolide with a thunk onto the ground. Rage thrummed along her body. She hovered over Bolide, “Never question orders, Bolide. You know the consequences,” she spat Santoro’s words back at the woman then floated away.

Angie felt Bolide’s scowl all the way back through to the barracks. She rolled her eyes and unzipped the leather as she stomped. Angie breathed a sigh of relief as cool air pressed across the tops of her breasts. She shoved into the main room of the barracks. Young, still innocent, faces stared at her as she stormed through. Some flinched, some glared, Angie had noticed she had that effect on people. They either flinch in fear or stare in anger. She shook her head and buffaloed into the women’s showers where she ripped the leather off, leaving her in her underwear. She collapsed on a bench in front of her locker and kicked the metal. It bent under the act and Angie sighed. “You know, that might be considered destruction of property.”

Angie turned her head to see Antonia smiling at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be infiltrating a Nazi camp?” she sighed.

“Over and back,” she replied, unzipping her leather.

“That was fast,” Angie replied.

“Our location was closer than yours…and the documents we needed were right out in the open. Nazis are arrogant pricks,” Antonia laughed.

“You’re sure it wasn’t a trap? Sounds too easy,” Angie’s forehead wrinkled.

Antonia shrugged, “I suppose it could’ve been,” she stepped out of her suit.

Antonia opened her locker and hung the outfit on one of the rungs inside. Angie kicked her locker again before opening it and putting her own suit inside and slammed the locker shut. Antonia closed her locker and got two towels for them as Angie stalked to the shower. “I assume, Bolide behaved like an oaf and that’s why you are so angry, not that you failed your mission,” Antonia proposed.

“Of course. That woman is insufferable. One of these days she’s gonna get her and everyone around her killed. I just hope it’s not a mission I’m on,” Angie sighed.

They chose shower stalls next to one another. Angie took the towel Antonia offered her and placed it over the outer door of the stall. Angie fiddled with the water until the temperature was just below scalding and stepped inside. Antonia ran her fingers under slightly cooler water and submerged herself in the stream. They showered side by side, quietly, each simply enjoying the tightness rolling out of their muscles. Angie turned off the water and grabbed her towel. She ran the terrycloth along her body then tossed it over her head and rubbed it over her hair. She wrapped the towel around her body, exited the stall and deposited her undergarments in a bin. 

Antonia took an entirely different approach to covering herself and left her body exposed while wrapping her hair. Angie was pulling sweat pants up over her legs when Antonia sauntered out completely nude. Angie felt her face flush, her muscles in her stomach tightened. She looked up at Antonia’s face. A please grin spread across Antonia’s mouth and she winked at Angie. Angie turned quickly and yanked a grey tank top over her head then pulled the towel out from under it after her chest was covered. She ran the towel back to the bin and returned for her socks and shoes. She sat bolt upright, fumbling with her socks, her back to Antonia. “You know, bella,” Antonia leaned in to Angie’s ear, “You can do more than look if you like.”

Goose pimples burst along Angie’s skin. She cleared her throat nervously, shoved her feet into the socks and shoes as quickly as she could and raced from the bathroom. Bolide stalked past Angie toward the bathroom. She turned to see the doors to the dorms swinging closed. She shrugged and walked into the bathroom. Antonia slipped on her sweat pants and was standing, topless, toweling off her hair. Bolide huffed and rolled her eyes as she moved to her locker on the opposite side of Antonia. She opened the door and unzipped her leather partway. Antonia walked over and leaned close to Bolide. She jerked away. “Cause harm to anyone due to your temper and you’ll wish you’d never been born,” Antonia whispered.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Bolide scoffed.

Antonia turned to walk away and sang over her shoulder, “You should be.”

Angie dropped onto the bed in the bunk she shared with Antonia. It was barely larger than a prison cell. Two desks fit across from the stacked beds with a thin walkway in between. There was a wooden door that separated the room from the hallway. The adults bunked two a piece while the children all roomed together divided only by gender. Angie had wondered if Antonia had played some part in influencing the rooming assignments and now Angie felt certain she had. Her stomach fluttered in knots and heat at the woman’s implication. 

It was not as if Angie was unsure about her preference in sexual partner, more that she had never had any opportunity to actually act upon it. The prospect was exciting and terrifying, Angie calmed her breathing which was coming awkwardly. She had scarcely even touched herself in the five years since she had been taken, all too aware in those early days that cameras were a permanent fixture in her rooms. Her thoughts had often slipped to Antonia but she was always quick to shirk them away. 

Angie was very aware that Bolide had developed a crush on her, she had never been subtle in her possessiveness. She had no inkling that Antonia might be of a similar inclination. Heat spread along Angie’s neck and face. Her eyes felt heavy. She tried to wipe away the growing urge in her body to…the creak of the door opening jerked Angie out of her fantasies. “Christ Almighty, you scared the shit out of me,” Angie cursed without looking up.

Antonia smiled and closed the door behind her, “I thought I might find you here.”

A nervous giggle choked through Angie’s throat, “You had a one in three chance of being right.”

The air felt heavy around Angie’s body. She was not sure if that was something that she was doing so she closed her eyes and tried clearing her mind. She heard the lock on the door click and opened one eye in the direction of the sound. Angie cleared her throat, “What are you doing?”  
Antonia raised an eyebrow at Angie, “I mean I know what you’re doing, obviously,” she continued nervously.

Antonia sat down on the bed next to Angie and placed a hand on Angie’s knee. Muscles low in Angie’s midsection clenched. “Do you want me to stop?” Antonia asked.

Angie’s breath was quick and shallow. Antonia’s hand moved further up Angie’s leg. She shook her head slowly. Antonia smiled and placed a kiss on Angie’s neck. She craned her neck so Antonia could reach better. The hand stopped a few inches shy of Angie’s groin which was now pulsating. Antonia turned her body in toward Angie, kissing along her neck, she placed her other hand behind Angie’s back and licked a line up to her ear. Angie’s breath caught. She turned her face and stared, heavy lidded at Antonia’s lips. “Do you want this, bella?”  
Angie bit her lip and nodded. Antonia smiled and leaned in so close her lips ghosted along Angie’s, “Are you certain?”

Angie closed the distance and pressed her lips against Antonia’s. Angie pressed Antonia against the bed. They broke apart long enough for Antonia to extend her legs underneath Angie. It was awkward, Angie was all need and rushing, running her hands along every part of the other woman that she could reach. Antonia laughed. Angie pulled back, embarrassed. She sat on her knees, hunched so she did not hit her head on the bed above her. “What? Am I no good? I’m sorry.”

Antonia reached up to Angie’s hips and dragged her forward. Angie kept herself lifted. Antonia sighed and leaned up on her elbows. “Take your time, bella. There’s no need to rush. Have you not done this before?”

Angie was suddenly very ashamed. She rolled herself off of Antonia. Antonia sat up, “You haven’t. I’m so sorry. I thought you had.”

Angie curled into herself, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Does that change anything?” Angie asked, too nervous to look at her.

“Not really,” Antonia sighed.

Angie looked up. Antonia scooted back on the bed and leaned against the wall, “Come here,” she extended her arms, “Across my lap.”  
Angie tentatively moved forward. Antonia guided Angie’s legs to the outside of her own. Angie shifted her weight off Antonia, “I won’t break,” Antonia assured her.

Angie kept most of her weight on her knees, but dropped herself across Antonia’s lap. The older woman pushed a strand of dirty blonde hair behind Angie’s ear. She studied Angie’s features. Angie shifted uncomfortably under the gaze. Antonia pushed off from the wall and slowly brought her face close to Angie’s, “Sex,” she started between nips along Angie’s jaw line, “varies from person to person, sometimes you want slow, sometimes it’s all need and lust like you were feeling earlier,” Antonia slipped her hands beneath Angie’s tank top and kneaded the skin at her lower back, “I’d like to learn your body.”

Angie gasped as Antonia’s hands grazed the sides of her breasts. Antonia slipped the shirt over Angie’s head and lowered her lips to one of Angie’s already aroused nipples. Angie grunted as Antonia nipped and sucked at the nipple. Every flick of her tongue dragged moans out of Angie’s throat. Angie’s body was hot with need. Antonia pulled the other nipple lightly with her teeth; Angie felt her body on the verge of something though she was not sure what. Antonia released her breasts. “You have to be quiet now, bella,” she grinned.

Angie nodded and Antonia kissed her on the lips. Angie opened her mouth to Antonia, their tongues slid around each other. Angie did not notice Antonia’s hand slip to her waist until it was dipping below her underwear. Angie’s eyes widened and her body jerked. Antonia kept Angie’s lips against hers. Angie pressed her body against the woman. Antonia pulled back, “Lay down.”

Angie did what she was told. Antonia fell on top of her, panting. Her fingers swirled between Angie’s thighs. Angie’s breath came in gasps with the pressure that kept building and building. Antonia pressed kisses down Angie’s torso and returned to her breasts. The circles she drew with one hand became smaller and faster. Angie arched toward Antonia, her hands fisting into the woman’s hair. She bit her lip and held her breath. Angie frantically pulled Antonia’s face back up to hers and kissed her hard on the mouth, teeth pressing against each other. Angie’s muscles constricted and she shuddered into Antonia’s hand. She reached down involuntarily and stilled the woman’s hand, her breath coming now more evenly. Angie collapsed back against the bed with a deep sigh. Antonia kissed her again and rolled onto her side.

“I get to do that to you now, right?” Angie smirked, turning her face to look at Antonia.

Antonia ran her tongue over the corner of her lip and nodded devilishly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ombra in Italian means shadow.


	5. Ammiraglio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, there's a fair amount of violence in this chapter. If you've a hard time with that sort of thing, consider this your warning.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry both for the long time between updates and for what I've done.

_Rome, Italy, March 1945_

“Oh shit,” Angie cursed quietly to herself.

Bolide raised an eyebrow and glanced up from her cup of coffee. Angie folded the newspaper in her hands and sat it down beside her, a distant look on her face.

Bolide sighed, “Cosa?”

“Captain America disappeared,” Angie replied, dusting toast crumbs off her chin.

“Is that all?” Bolide shrugged.

Angie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “He was doing half our work for us, you know. You could at least show a little respect.”

Bolide, for all her posturing still behaved like a thirteen year old and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly at Angie’s words. Angie opened her mouth to continue when Bolide’s features turned to a sneer. Angie looked over her shoulder and smiled as Antonia lowered herself onto the bench next to Angie. Antonia tugged at the edge of the paper under Angie’s elbow which Angie relinquished to her. “Oh how sad,” Antonia sighed, “The Captain America fellow made our jobs so much easier.”

Angie smirked and glared at Bolide who huffed and marched out of the dining hall. “What’s her problem?” Antonia asked through a bite of toast.

“She’s just being herself,” Angie smiled and patted Antonia’s knee under the table.

Antonia nodded as if that were explanation enough and drank her coffee. “There’s a briefing in twenty by the Admiral,” she said, “They’re only sending out two teams this time.”

“How does it feel to be back in the good graces of the Italian air force?” Angie nudged Antonia’s shoulder playfully.

“Better than you can imagine,” Antonia slid her hand up Angie’s thigh, forcing a gasp which Angie quickly covered with a cough, “I can keep you out of the really dangerous missions.”

Angie rolled her eyes, “I can take care of myself you know, I’m not a child.”

Antonia patted her knee, “I know, but I still worry,” Antonia pushed herself up from the table and whispered, “Ten minutes, mio amore.”

Angie stretched her arms over her head and yawned. She drank the last of her coffee and piled Bolide’s and Antonia’s empty dishes onto her tray. The children in charge of cleaning the dining hall had grown to adore Angie for her consideration of them. Angie held a soft spot for the new recruits especially the American ones. Every time a new group would be brought in, she always asked Antonia if there were any Americans amongst them. After several instances of this, Antonia had taken to informing Angie without her having to ask. Angie made it a point to visit them as soon as it was allowed and encourage them as best she could. Absently, Angie walked down the hallway from the dining hall to the briefing rooms with her fingers laced behind her head.

Angie entered the main briefing room. Bolide, Calcio, Pugno and—she assumed—Ombra sat around the table. Ombra spent more and more time invisible as the years had gone on. Everyone in the room, and Antonia, had developed the ability to see the shimmer of an outline he left behind. Ombra loved scaring the military liaisons assigned to Crisalide by hiding until they asked his whereabouts then suddenly appearing in a seat next to one. Invariably at least one, if not all of them, would jump nearly out of their skin. Ombra had, fortunately for him, also developed the ability to hide his amusement behind faked apologies. The more melodramatic the apology, the more difficult it had been to hide the laughter. Of course, Calcio and Pugno made no attempts to hide their amusement. They would laugh unabashedly.

Angie sat down next to Pugno and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs on the table. For her part, since the emergence of Captain America and defection of Southern Italy to join America against the Nazis, Angie had made fewer and fewer attempts to present as Italian rather than American for their liaisons. Subconsciously, she wanted there to be no mistake where her loyalties lay for when the war finally ended, consciously, she just liked the looks of utter disgust the same way Ombra enjoyed the flashes of fear. “So any of you know what we’re in for?” Angie asked idly, picking dirt from under her nails.

Pugno shook his head, “Incantatrice just tracked us,” he pointed at his brother with his thumb, “down this morning.”

Angie looked toward the shimmering outline at the front of the table near the door, “I eavesdropped,” the accompanying shrug was apparent in his voice.

Bolide smiled, self-satisfied, “The Admiral asked me to be here, personally.”

“Bully for you,” Angie jabbed.

“We can’t all screw…” Bolide cut off her sentence as Antonia and an Admiral marched into the room.

Antonia shut the door behind them with a light click. “Ammiraglio,” Bolide stood and saluted.

Angie raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes, loudly slamming her boots against the table as she re-crossed her legs. She would get an earful from Antonia about belligerence and the need to at least pretend to the air force officers that she was a professional they could trust to complete missions. The glare this Admiral shot Angie would have made a younger—or smarter—recruit wither. Angie shifted uncomfortably under the man’s gaze but did not change her position. Metallo Bocca had been more intimidating but only slightly. Through narrowed eyes, the man looked around the room. His eyes stopped on the invisible Ombra. “Stop the games,” he commanded.

Ombra’s long brown hair covered an eye, he stared at the Admiral with a dead gaze, “Si, Ammiraglio,” he crossed his arms over his chest and slouched against the seat.

“Incantatrice, if you please,” he grunted.

Antonia shifted the folders in her arms and began passing them out, the final folder, she kept for herself and took a seat opposite Angie. She sat in the chair perfectly upright, her features tight. Angie knew well enough to know that something was wrong. Angie looked down at her file while the nameless admiral rambled about duty to Italy. Angie opened the folder and looked at the names on the operatives list. _Shit._ She finally removed her feet from the table and sat up. The muscles in her jaw worked in annoyance. She glared at Bolide. The Admiral cleared his throat, “Is there something more important than my briefing, Mulinello?”

“I’m just curious, sir, why Bolide and I aren’t on the same mission. Our talents work best together…”

“Because the mission dictates her particular gifts are best utilized elsewhere. Any further questions? Or may I continue?” the Admiral huffed.

Angie took a deep cleansing breath and schooled her expression, “No, sir.”

“Very well then. Team one, comprised of Mulinello, Ombra and Pugno will infiltrate a suspected Austrian HYDRA base and retrieve the object photographed. They call it an Obelisk. Its powers are unknown. This is only a retrieval mission. Do not, for any reason, interfere in any operations at the base. Understood?”

“Si, Ammiraglio,” Ombra and Pugno replied in unison along with Angie’s, “Yes, sir.”

“Team two, comprised of Incantatrice, Bolide and Calcio will infiltrate a base in the Soviet Union and retrieve all information about the base’s operations and purpose. The rumours are bizarre. Upon completion, destroy the base.”

“Si, Ammiraglio,” the three replied.

Bolide stood in salute, “Sir, who is in charge of our mission?”

“Bolide will take charge of her mission team. Mulinello, you will lead your team.”

Angie’s fists balled in rage. She gritted her teeth, “Yes, sir.”

The Admiral removed himself from the room with a final encouragement for each to familiarize themselves with their folders. Ombra immediately vanished, folder and all, and wandered off to his room. Pugno and Calcio sat awkwardly between the three women. Tension rolled off Angie in visible waves. She took a steadying breath and closed her eyes. “Congratulations, Bolide,” Antonia interrupted, “I look forward to a success under your leadership.”

Angie opened one eye then the other. A wide toothy grin splayed across Bolide’s face. Antonia pulled her folder to her chest and exited the room. Angie glared at Bolide, “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if one hair on her head is harmed, I will kill you and then everyone else responsible.”

“I thought you would relish a chance at leadership, Mulinello. It must be so tiring always in my shadow,” Bolide taunted.

Angie felt herself falling for the taunting bait and worked to avoid killing Bolide there and then. Angie flexed her fingers then picked up her folder. “Just bring everyone back safely, Bolide,” Angie stopped in the doorway, “Please,” she added over her shoulder.

Bolide deflated. She had hoped for a verbal sparring but the worry etched into Angie’s countenance drained the fight out of her, “I’ll do my best.”

Calcio and Pugno exchanged shrugs and followed Angie out. Bolide sat in the empty room, hands folded on top of her papers. She sighed and opened the folder. What little information the Aeronautica del Sud had on the facility covered only a page. The location: the Byelorussian republic just west of Minsk. The facility name: Camera Rossa Academy. A photo of several young girls, like a school photograph, was paper clipped to the front. Bolide unclipped the photo and looked closely. They looked like recruits. She recognized the light of youth dying on many of their faces and the too straight posture for a child. They looked like soldiers. She returned the photo and closed her folder. Bolide turned off the light in the room and closed the door behind her.

Angie paced outside her room. She took a deep breath and reached for the knob. It turned just before her hand made contact. She started back. The door opened and Antonia pulled her inside by the arm. “Listen very carefully to me, if you continue to disrespect the military they will terminate you. Do you understand me, Angela?”

Angie nodded. Antonia shook with anger and a twinge of what looked like real fear. Angie had never felt any real reason to fear their Air Force benefactors. It had all seems to be empty threats. Antonia continued, “So far, your usefulness has outweighed your belligerence and I have done my damnedest to protect you but I won’t always be around. My reach is not infinite. If they think for even a moment that I’ve used my gift to influence them I and my family will be killed,” Antonia’s grip on Angie’s shoulders tightened to the point of painful.

Angie grimaced accordingly and Antonia released her with a sigh of apology. Angie positioned herself in Antonia’s line of sight and lifted her chin so that Antonia had to look at her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I sometimes forget that it’s not just my neck on the line for my attitude.”

Antonia swiped at pooling tears in her eyes and fell into Angie’s embrace. It was always slightly awkward for Angie to hold the taller woman like this but she had grown accustomed and shifted her weight naturally. “I fear I’ve shielded you from too much, bella. You don’t know what these people are truly capable of. I have done you a disservice.”

“Are you being punished for something? Why does this feel like the forever kind of goodbye?” Angie asked, fear suddenly rippling through her chest.

Antonia pulled back and palmed Angie’s cheek, “Mio amore, I would move heaven and earth to protect you if I could.”

Angie choked on the strangled cry that tried to pry itself out of her throat. Her eyes were wide as Antonia placed a lingering kiss her cheek. “I have a very bad feeling about this mission, bella. I don’t intend to die…”

“Then don’t!” Angie shouted, “Stop this talk like you’re already dead,” Angie pushed away from Antonia.

Angie lowered herself onto the bottom bunk. Antonia moved to sit beside Angie but did not touch her. “I am being punished, I fear. I spoke against stealing the Obelisk. We don’t even know what it does. It’s a stupid power play. I forgot myself for a moment. I should’ve been leading your mission with Ombra and Pugno and you should’ve been with Bolide and Calcio. My arrogance has put us both in jeopardy. I’m sorry bella.”

“They are jeopardizing both missions just to teach you a lesson? Are we really that expendable?” Angie derided.

“They do not truly believe that we will come to harm. They ignorantly believe that we are impervious against normal humans,” Antonia sighed and Angie pulled Antonia’s head onto her shoulder.

“Shit,” Angie whispered.

Antonia smiled, despite herself and placed a kiss on Angie’s shoulder. “We have to get ready, bella. Our planes leave in a couple hours and we should meet with our teams. I need at least an hour to mentally prepare for Bolide’s smugness about leading me in a mission.”

Angie groaned and fell back against the bed. Antonia stood in front of Angie with an arm outstretched to help her up. Angie kicked out her legs and wrapped them around Antonia’s waist. Antonia’s hands went up to the frame of the top bunk to keep herself from hitting her head. “Come kiss me first,” Angie winked up at Antonia.  
********************  
“So you’re in agreement?” Bolide asked Calcio, her arms crossed over her chest.

“It doesn’t make any sense for Mulinello to be on the other mission,” Calcio confirmed.

“And you will support me in speaking with the Admiral?” Bolide continued.

“Yes. We need our best chances to be successful at both missions,” Calcio nodded, “Franco agrees. Incantatrice is more suited to his mission than Mulinello. I can bring him along if you think that will help.”

“They are setting us up to die,” Ombra added ominously.

Bolide jumped but he did not grin, “Ombra does not want to die,” he continued.

Bolide composed herself and nodded. She led the way with the other two in tow toward the liaisons’ offices. She knocked on the first door on the left in the brightly lit corridor adjacent to the briefing rooms. “Enter,” the Admiral bellowed.

Bolide pushed the door open and saluted. He nodded acknowledgement. “Bolide,” he stated simply.

“Sir, if we may have a moment of your time?” Bolide started, remaining in the doorway, half blocking the other two.

The Admiral nodded. She entered further, allowing space for Calcio and Ombra to join her. The Admiral eyed each of them. “Sir, we have a concern about our missions.”

The Admiral rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “What’s your problem?”

“Well, sir. Upon examining our briefings, we discovered that Mulinello would actually be more beneficial on the mission I’m leading, sir…” Bolide started.

“And Incantatrice would be more beneficial on Ombra’s,” Ombra finished.

“Mmm-hmm,” he sighed, “And you agree with this assessment too…whichever twin you are?”

“Si, Ammiraglio,” Calcio replied.

“And the other one? Does he agree as well?”

“Si, Ammiraglio.”

“What of Mulinello and Incantatrice? Where are they? Have you even consulted them on this matter or did you take it upon yourselves to question my decisions?” his voice deepened with each question.

“Sir, we have not spoken with them. We simply seek the highest mission success rates. Their opinions are irrelevant. As soldiers, they will do as they are told,” Bolide started without realizing the corner she just painted herself into.

“I see. Are you then implying that none of the rest of you are good soldiers, able to do as they are told?” the Admiral grinned.

“No sir, we seek only to serve Italy to the best of our abilities and ensure successful missions,” Calcio started, doing his best to hide his frantic pleas.

“We are not questioning our orders, sir,” Bolide started, fear tinging her words slightly, “We will do as ordered. We just thought…”

“There’s your first mistake. You, weapons, thought to question the one who wields you. You will do as ordered and I will forget this lapse in judgment you have all displayed,” the unsaid threats played on the air around them.

Bolide and Calcio backed quickly out of the room. Ombra stood on his spot, glaring at the Admiral. “Ombra has no family for you to threaten. Ombra does not want to die. You set Ombra up to do so. Ombra will not forgive you, sir,” he added the last bit with a mock salute before vanishing and pushing past Bolide and Calcio in the hallway.

Calcio and Bolide walked back to the dining hall where people filed in for lunch. Pugno waved at them from a table he shared with Angie and Antonia. Calcio strode over. Bolide clenched and unclenched her fists as she walked up slowly. She sat down across from Antonia and stared at her fists on the table. Angie leaned over toward Calcio, “She okay?”

Calcio sighed. Bolide looked up at Antonia. “You should not be on my mission. I’m not trying to insult you. You should not be on my mission.”

Antonia smiled gently and put her hand on one of Bolide’s fists, “No, I should not.”

“Why are they setting us up to fail?” Pugno asked.

“They are punishing Incantatrice,” Ombra chimed in, appearing next to Angie.

Ombra lowered Ombra’s head to Angie’s shoulder before continuing, “If Ombra is to die, please spend the last few days not calling Ombra a ‘he,’” Ombra looked away, “Just call Ombra, Ombra.”

“Would you prefer ‘she’?” Calcio asked.

Ombra shook Ombra’s head, “No. ‘She’ isn’t right either. Ombra is simply Ombra.”

Calcio and Pugno nodded.

Angie’s hand reached up to Ombra’s cheek. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it bothered you,” Angie pushed a strand of Ombra’s hair behind Ombra’s ear, “You aren’t going to die if I’ve anything to say about it, Ombra, so I’ll be calling you Ombra for a long time yet,” she winked and kissed Ombra’s forehead.

Ombra smiled and popped a piece of apple into Ombra’s mouth. Angie reached up under the scarf tying her hair back and pulled out a glide. She turned to Ombra, “Can I pull your hair back please? Get it out of your eyes for this mission?”

Ombra nodded. Angie turned Ombra’s face away and took the top half of Ombra’s heavy straight hair into her hands and pulled it back to the back of Ombra’s head. She unclasped the plain metal glide with her teeth and clicked it in place then turned Ombra to face her. “Ah much better.”

Ombra blinked, eyes adjusting to the harsh light. “Won’t you need this to keep your hair back though?”

“Nah,” Angie waved the concern away and pushed the scarf out of the way, “Scarf’s just for show.”

Angie revealed a headband of nylon around her bangs, holding her hair securely away from her face, “Bobby pins and glides just don’t cut it for the amount of wind I kick up. Scarves definitely don’t.”

Calcio and Pugno looked at her like a lightbulb just blew in their brains. “Is that from a stocking?” Pugno asked.

Angie nodded. “Brilliant,” Calcio smirked.

Antonia and Bolide remained quiet throughout the exchange, silently sipping coffee. Bolide pushed a stray loose hair from her braid back and leaned toward Antonia. “I promised Mulinello I would do my best to make sure you don’t die,” she confessed haltingly, “I mean to keep that promise.”

Antonia nodded, “I’ll do my part to make sure you don’t come back a liar.”

It was the closest thing to a cordial conversation the pair had ever exchanged. Bolide cleared her throat. “We roll out in twenty, make sure your uniforms are up to standards and meet me in the hangar,” Bolide said as she pushed away from the table.

“Yeah, we should finish and get ready. We head out twenty after they do,” Angie concurred.

Pugno, Calcio and Ombra got up with their trays and headed back to the lockers to change into their leather suits. Angie stretched and Antonia studied her profile. “Stop looking at me like you’re committing me to memory. I’ll see you in a few days,” Angie grunted as she got up from the table.

“I’ll get the trays, go on and change,” Antonia shooed Angie.

Angie strolled to the locker room. Bolide struggled with the zipper on the back of her suit. Angie jogged toward her, “Here, lemme.”

Bolide gave up the struggle and presented Angie with her back. “I mean to keep my promise, Mulinello. I’ll bring them both back.”

“Jesus H. Christ. You guys need to calm the hell down. Everyone is coming back just fine. Is it ideal? No. Should Antonia and I be switched on the team roster? Yes. Life isn’t fair. Focus on the mission and get your stupid asses back here in one piece,” Angie railed.

Bolide’s pale skin flushed to match her hair. She steeled her features. “Yes. That’s the Bolide that needs to be here now. Not this remorseful nonsense like someone is already dead. Do your damn job and I’ll do mine,” Angie concluded.

 _Minsk, USSR 1945_  
Bolide stared at the other red head. She uncurled her fist, unleashing a fireball at the other woman. She crouched below the flame and glared icy blue daggers at Bolide. The woman bolted forward in a blur of speed and coiled energy. Bolide was on her back, gasping for air her lungs struggled to intake, before she had any reflex to move. Calcio rocked forward on his heels, unleashing earth shaking shockwaves toward the woman. She deftly leapt up the walls of the hallway she had corralled them into and swung on an exposed pipe. A heeled foot planted into Calcio’s chest and he joined Bolide on the floor. The woman turned back toward them, a grin painting across her face. The satisfaction of the violence filled her eyes with glee. Antonia reached out with her mind from the room next door. She whispered, “Kneel down and lace your fingers behind your head.”

The woman jerked her head toward the room as her knees bent against her will. A furious scream tore through her throat. She fell to the ground, her hands in front of her, she breathed heavily. Antonia stepped out of the room and spoke again, “I said put your hands behind your head.”

Bolide rose to her knees and helped Calcio do the same. The woman between the three of them panted wildly, eyes jerking against the commands. Her teeth were clenched, her brow furrowed in silent defiance. Antonia shook her head, “I’m sorry you two. She’s strong, I need to…”

“Do what you have to,” Bolide shouted.

Antonia nodded. Her power curled inside her like a fist. She slowly opened that fisted energy and poured as much as she could into the woman in front of her. “Put. Your. Hands. Behind. Your. Head,” Antonia punctuated each word with a step forward. Behind the woman, Bolide and Calcio threw their hands behind their heads immediately, frozen in place. The woman glared at Antonia through a haze of rage. “Niet,” she replied.

Before Antonia could think to move, the woman launched herself at her and twisted her neck. Antonia’s neck cracked in a sickening series of pops. She thudded to the ground. The woman dared a quick look over her shoulder before bolting to the stairs and hurling herself down them. Bolide was still screaming as she ran at the staircase and threw a swirl of fire down. The woman threw herself out the door onto the first floor as the fire blasted against the closed metal door behind her. Calcio picked up Antonia’s body and yelled after Bolide. “We have to go!”

_Austria 1945_

Ombra snuck back down the corridor to where Angie and Pugno were hiding. “The Obelisk isn’t here. I grabbed the files I could sneak before the patrol passed the office. Seems like they moved the Obelisk a couple days ago.”

Angie tsked, “Okay, let’s get out of here before we get caught.”

Ombra put a hand on Angie’s shoulder and another on Pugno’s shoulder. The three vanished just as a patrol rounded the corner. They leaned back against the wall, holding their breaths. Angie relaxed when the man passed by. Ombra led them forward to backtrack out of the research facility. A whimpering sound caught Angie’s ear. She stopped them. “Ombra wait,” she whispered. “Did either of you hear that?”

Ombra shook Ombra’s head. Pugno tilted his head to listen. A whimper echoed again around them. Angie sighed deeply. “Shit.”

“It’s not our mission,” Ombra said.

“He’s righ…sorry. Ombra’s right,” Pugno agreed.

The whimper was followed by a scream. “Get out of here. I can’t leave someone here to be tortured, I’ll catch up. Go,” Angie commanded them, “Get to the evacuation site with the files. I’ll catch up to you in flight.”

Angie pulled free from Ombra’s grip and tiptoed toward the screaming. Pugno sighed, “We can’t just leave her I suppose.”

“No. We can’t,” Ombra agreed reluctantly.

“Bleeding heart Americans,” Pugno winked.

“We’re no better, the Italians that follow them blindly,” Ombra joked.

Pugno nodded in agreement, “Let’s go help her before she gets herself injured.”

Ombra and Pugno hurried off after Angie. They passed the bodies of five passed out guards before they caught up to Angie standing dumbstruck outside a room with people in cages. The cages were surrounded with blackened, frozen bodies with features contorted in pain. Pugno and Ombra’s approach roused Angie to action. She pulled at the door handle. It was locked. She shifted the wind and sent it coursing through the lock mechanism. The door unlocked and swung open. “You can lockpick with that shit too?” Pugno remarked and let out a low whistle.

“I’m a woman of many hidden talents,” Angie replied.

“You can say that again,” Ombra replied knowingly.

“Oh my god, have you been spying on me?” Angie turned on Ombra.

Ombra had the decency to blush. Angie’s eyes widened, another scream returned her attention to the task at hand. The scream did not originate in the room. The people in the cages, started shouting in Chinese. Angie had no idea how to communicate if they did not speak English so instead she called up wind and worked at all the locks. One after another, cage doors popped open. They piled out of the cages and backed away from Angie in fear. She sighed and spoke calmly. “Escape,” she tried to convey, “Go. Leave,” she motioned them out of the room.

They flooded out of the room, apparently escape needed no translation. “We have to go,” Pugno reminded Angie.

One woman straggled behind the rest, “Jiaying,” she kept saying over and over.

Angie sighed, “I don’t understand.”

A scream rang out again, “Jiaying,” the woman shouted again, pointing in the direction of the sound.

“Is that someone’s name?” Ombra asked.

The woman nodded furiously, “Name. Jiaying. Help.”

“Okay,” Angie replied.

The woman shuffled out of the room after the rest of her group. Someone must have been spotted because it was not long before an alarm started blaring. “We really shouldn’t be doing this,” Pugno pleaded.

The sounds of pounding footsteps urged Angie to action. She tugged Ombra and Pugno back down the hall toward their exit. Angie silently apologized to the woman they apparently left behind. Outside the plane, Pugno climbed in as the motor started. Ombra uncloaked and looked sadly at Angie. “Ombra can’t go back.”

Angie sighed. Pugno disappeared to tell the pilot they were ready to depart. She placed a kiss on Ombra’s cheek and nodded her head. “I’ll tell them you died. They won’t look for you.”

Ombra smiled, “Thank you.”

Ombra disappeared into the forest. Angie yelled and fell to her knees as the plane rolled along for take-off. Pugno raced back from the cockpit. “Angie!” he shouted.

“They shot Ombra. Ombra’s dead,” she said amidst sobs. “I couldn’t…It’s my fault.”

“No,” Pugno sighed and slid to his knees next to Angie, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

Angie genuinely cried and allowed Pugno to comfort her. She was jealous. Ombra could go and have a life and no one would be the wiser. She cried with jealousy and let the tears flow unbidden. The plane returned them safely to Rome in what seemed like no time at all. The pair of them collapsed tiredly into the chairs of the briefing room. The Admiral glared at them. His words were calm but the rage behind them boiled just under the surface, “It was a simple reconnaissance mission. How did you trip the entire facility to your presence and get Ombra killed. He alone was worth more than either of you combined.”

“Not ‘him,’” Pugno spat, “Ombra was Ombra. Don’t say ‘him.’”

The statement rolled past the Admiral and he waved it off. “The fact still remains that you let our best asset die on your first mission, Mulinello. What’s your explanation?”

Angie’s jaw set and she opened her mouth. “It was my fault,” Pugno replied, “I accidentally tripped a sensor that set off an alarm.”

Angie turned to look at Pugno. He nodded at her. She continued, “The room where the Obelisk was kept previously was still wired with alarms. Your information was old and faulty. The device isn’t even there anymore,” Angie slammed the files Ombra had handed her before running off down on the table.

The Admiral huffed. “Dismissed.”

Angie and Pugno dragged themselves wearily out of the room. The sound of another plane entering the hangar caught Angie’s attention. “That was quick. Are the others back already?” she asked.

Pugno shrugged, “They shouldn’t be back until tomorrow.”

They walked back toward the hangar. The door on the side of the aircraft swung open. Bolide stepped down, looking badly beaten. Bruises blossomed all over her face. “What happened?” Angie ran up to her.

Calcio stepped down next. Angie looked over Bolide to Calcio. “You two look like you took one hell of a beating,” Angie looked over Calcio’s shoulder for Antonia to step down.

The pilot climbed out instead. Angie’s heart sped. Adrenaline poured through her body, rendering her muscles taut, “Where’s Antonia?” it was all Angie could do to not scream.

Calcio put his hand on Angie’s shoulder. “Oh Jesus,” Angie choked and jumped onto the plane.

In the near darkness of the plane, she searched until her eyes stopped on a blanket covering what looked like the outline of a body. Angie’s breaths came in ragged gasps. She felt her power leaking past her well-crafted defenses. She took a deep breath and reigned in her power. Slowly, Angie walked up to the blanket. She carefully lowered herself to her knees. Her hand hovered over the material, unable to force herself to close the distance. Tears clouded her vision. She wiped them away with her opposite hand and held her breath as she pulled the cover away. Antonia’s head was twisted at an unnatural angle. Her skin was pale and cold to the touch. Angie calmly pulled the blanket back over Antonia’s face and placed a kiss on the blanket where Antonia’s lips were. “I love you. I promise I’ll make whoever did this pay,” she whispered against Antonia’s covered cheek.

A tear splashed against the material. Angie placed another kiss against Antonia’s cheek and pulled herself up. She took a steadying breath before heading back to the door. Bolide stood alone in the hangar waiting for her. Angie climbed down. In perhaps the smartest move she had ever made, Bolide chose to remain silent as Angie walked up to her. She steadied herself for the blow she knew was inevitable. Angie stared at her. “Who?” Angie finally asked.

“I don’t know her name but I will have the artists draw a rendering,” Bolide replied.

“You will give me a copy of the drawing once it is complete,” she continued.

Bolide nodded and inhaled shakily. She opened her mouth, “Don’t,” Angie raised her hand, “The only thing keeping you safe right now is your silence.”

She looked up at the viewing room and the Admiral staring down at them with a satisfied smirk on his face. The rage swirled in her. “Run,” Angie said.

Bolide did not blink twice. She exited the hangar as a tornado formed around Angie’s feet. The swirling mass lifted Angie up to the viewing room. Everyone but the Admiral cleared out. “This is your fault,” Angie whispered.

She punched her fist toward the glass and a rush of wind shattered the glass. The Admiral stepped back, finally showing an emotion. It caused Angie’s lips to curl in a dangerous smile. The Admiral grasped at his throat. His eyes went wide as he fell to his knees. “You sent her to die. Was it your order or did someone force you into it?” she demanded.

His eyes bulged and he croaked at her feet. She released his throat. “My orders,” he gasped.

Angie nodded as he took deep rasping breaths. She stepped off the tornado. She threw the wind in the Admiral’s direction. “I believe you,” she whispered into his ear.

She pulled back and the tornado picked the Admiral up. Angie held the Admiral tightly in the middle of the air. He had the decency to plead for his life. Angie laughed; it was a cold, hollow sound in her ears. She thrust her arm forward. The tornado banged wildly against the walls of the hangar. Back and forth. Blood spurted from the Admiral’s body until he was limp and bloody. Angie brought the tornado back toward herself. She finally allowed herself a scream as she allowed the wind to tear the Admiral’s body in half. She panted from exertion and collapsed onto the ground where she sobbed freely.


	6. Operazione Scudo

_Rome, Italy April 1945_

Angie sat crossed legged atop of small ball of air in her cell. She stared blankly at the metal door in front of her. The small observation window cut into the door slid open. Angie raised her cold blue eyes. The boy could not have been older than fourteen, he looked like he had to tiptoe to look in on her. After Angie had choked out the first five soldiers they had sent to check on her in isolation, the Air Force had started sending young American recruits. Someone obviously had informed them of her soft spot. She had choked the first three to spite them taking advantage of a weakness she thought only Antonia had known about. This boy’s hands were obviously shaking. His voice still squeaked with puberty. “M—Mulinello?” he croaked.

Angie floated closer to the window, her eyes narrowed. He flew backward instinctively. Angie watched him steel himself and approach again. He certainly had guts. “What’s your name?” she asked.

The boy took a deep shuddering breath, “Grandinare.”

Angie pinched the bridge of her nose, “Hail, what is your birth name?”

He cleared his throat and looked up at a corner of the hallway. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, “Tommy,” he finally replied.

Angie smiled. It felt awkward on her face and from the look in the boy’s eyes it looked just as awkward as it felt. For his part though, he did not recoil again. Angie mentally gave the kid a point for keeping composed. Angie closed her eyes and stepped off the ball of air and allowed it to dissipate. “Why did they send you, Tommy?” she asked, leaning against the plastic separating them.

“They want to know if you’re ready to co-operate,” he replied meekly.

Angie laughed hoarsely, “You mean they want to know if I’ll stop nearly killing their little soldiers the second they come near me?” she leaned in and whispered to the boy, nodding at the corner he had looked to, “Is that the camera they’re using?”

He nodded jerkily and she whispered again, “I’m not going to hurt you, but I’d like to make a point. Okay?”

He swallowed loudly and nodded slowly. Angie was starting to like this kid. She smiled more like herself and he automatically returned it before quickly wiping it away. “I’m going to raise you up close to the camera and I want you to say something exactly. Do you speak Italian?”

He shook his head. Angie continued, “That’s okay. It’s really easy. ‘Pensi che questa gabbia mi tiene?’”

He repeated the phrase haltingly. Angie patiently corrected his pronunciation until he was able to say it as best as it was going to get. She beamed at him. “Great work, kiddo. Now after you say that, I’m gonna open my cell door and lower you onto the ground. I swear I’m not gonna hurt you. I won’t let them hurt you either, okay?”

His eyes widened but he nodded just the same. Angie lifted the boy. He yelped and kicked as his feet left the ground. Angie slowly floated him close to the camera. He was breathing rapidly but managed to get out the phrase without passing out. Angie lowered him to the ground and calmly opened her cell door. She stepped out into the hallway. The speakers crackled, “Mulinello, on your knees, hands behind your head.”

Angie recognized the voice, “General Santoro, long time no see. That cell is really only for your comfort. As you can see if I wanted to kill anyone, I could’ve by now. I think we can safely talk. That is if you’re as brave as this young fellow,” Angie smirked.

The boy’s eyes were the size of saucers, an involuntary smile quirked the side of his lip before he could banish it. Angie winked at the kid, “Cap’d be proud, kid.”

“You knew Captain America?” he asked excitedly.

Angie smiled, “I saved his life once, only he didn’t know it.”

“Whoa,” Tommy could not keep the awe out of his voice.

Angie retreated a bit; they would do their best to beat the American out of him. She had no doubt. He was strong, she sensed and she hoped he could hold on to that and not lose himself. Before she could say anything else to him, the door near Tommy creaked open. He stepped further into the corner, Angie clicked her tongue, she could see they had already started breaking him. General Santoro, slightly grayer and rounder than she remembered him from two years ago, walked through the threshold alone. He nodded to her. She nodded back. It did not look like much but they both understood the unspoken acknowledgment of respect. “How long’ve you been here, General?” Angie asked through the awkward silence.

“I arrived two weeks ago,” he replied, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Since I’ve not been executed yet, I assume that means I’m more valuable than the Admiral?” Angie tested the waters.

Santoro sighed, “There was an investigation. Your comrades seemed to believe that your response was justified. It seems he had a vendetta against Incantatrice.”

The mention of her name made tears involuntarily well in Angie’s eyes. She clenched her jaw and exhaled shakily. Santoro pretended not to notice and continued, “It was brought to his attention by your peers and the lieutenants under his command that the division of labour for the missions was ill conceived.”

Grief rushed back through Angie’s body and she placed a hand on the wall next to her. She took steadying breaths. Santoro marched on, “Your actions are not condoned. To the other members of Crisalide, they needed to believe that seclusion was your punishment for killing a superior officer. I need you to let them continue to believe that. Do you understand?”

Angie raised her tear streaked face to the General. She nodded her agreement. “May I see where you buried her?”

Santoro sighed and gritted his teeth, “Bolide wouldn’t let us bury her.”

“What?!” Angie screamed.

Wind whirled around her, whipping her hair about her face. “Calm down,” Santoro said, “Please Miss Martinelli.”

Angie stilled. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. “Why wasn’t she buried?” Angie finally asked.

“Bolide and the others didn’t want her piled in a mass grave. They had a ceremony for Ombra and Incantatrice. Bolide cremated Incantatrice. They uhm…well they wanted you to be able to say goodbye. The ashes await you in your bunk.”

Angie blinked rapidly and nodded.

“We will escort you to the locker room. I assume you’d like to collect yourself and get clean. Lunch is being served in an hour. We’re going to need to cuff you.”

Angie held out her wrists to Santoro. Grief still tore at her throat, begging to let loose screams and the waterfall of tears that did not seem to want to stop once they started. She looked at the General and managed to croak out a thank you as he snapped the cuffs around her wrists. “Tomorrow morning, we need to discuss the extent of your powers. You’ve obviously been hiding them from us.”

Angie smiled absently, “You think I’m the only one?”

Santoro sighed, “No. I don’t,” he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Santoro and an escort of three guards led Angie through the slowly filling dining hall toward the locker room. They were greeted with gasps and hushed whispers. Angie kept her eyes on the floor in front of her. She could feel the stares and recoils. What work she had done to be less frightening in the last couple of years had apparently been undone. She could not really blame them. She did tear a man in half. She laughed which came out as an exhale and jerk of her shoulders. Santoro and Angie stood outside the locker room as the three guards cleared it out. It appeared that Angie would not be granted the decency of showering without an armed guard. She had no idea what it was they expected her to do. It seemed to her that it should have been obvious that if she wanted to kill anyone else, she would have done it by now. She supposed she had threatened Bolide. Nearly everything—in that moment—felt like it would take too much energy so Angie did not protest as the four of them watched her undress, shower and then redress. A guard recuffed Angie’s wrists. She tried to run a brush through her very tangled mass of dirty blonde hair. It took too much effort and she sighed. The lone female guard in the group cautiously took the brush from Angie’s hands in her lap and started running it through her hair. “Thank you,” Angie managed.

It hurt but the pain served to draw her a little out of herself. When the woman finished brushing, she plaited Angie’s hair for her and tied a string around the bottom of the braid. Angie looked at herself in the mirror. There were dark nearly black circles under her eyes. She grimaced at her reflection. She imagined Antonia’s response to her appearance. Angie closed her eyes and could nearly hear her laughing voice purr, “You look a mess, bella.”

A tear slipped under Angie’s closed lids. She wiped at her cheek and cleared her throat. She returned to her locker and closed it. The female guard took Angie gently by the arm and led her out of the locker room. They rejoined General Santoro in the dining hall which was now bustling with noise. The room slowly fell quiet as Angie stood stoically waiting the General to lead them through to her room. After what seemed like an eternity to Angie, they finally started walking. Angie kept her eyes on the floor directly in front of her. She knew instinctively they were passing the table she, Ombra, Antonia, Bolide, Pugno and Calcio regularly shared. She felt eyes on her and closed her own tightly as she passed. A whimper caught in her throat when they finally made it out of the dining hall.

She sighed loudly and turned her head to the ceiling, trying vainly to collect herself. They made it to her door. Tears fell in streams down her cheeks now as she stared a hole into the door. Santoro moved in front of her to unclasp the cuffs again. He placed his hand on her shoulder as he stepped aside. “I’ll have someone bring you something to eat, Angela.”

She sniffled and nodded with a brief smile of thanks. Her hand hovered over the doorknob. The feeling of a scream built in her throat again and she bit the inside of her cheek. She could not make herself close the distance so she let the wind do what she could not. The three guards and Santoro removed themselves quietly. Angie only noticed the change in pressure around her. The door slowly blew open. The room was empty. She had half hoped, hell begged whoever might or might not be out in the universe that Antonia would be sitting on the bed. Instead, a tall white vase sat on Antonia’s desk. A sigh shuddered through her body and it took every ounce of control Angie had in her possession to shut the door behind her before collapsing onto the ground.

She stared at the vase for a long time barely breathing. Angie’s eyes never left the vase. She memorized the pits in the ceramic, the curves on the lip of the lid, the bumps and grooves along the edging of the base. Angie took a deep shuddering breath and finally blinked and looked away back at the bottom bunk. The covers were still rumpled from where—the scream finally tore itself from Angie’s throat and heaving body rocking sobs claimed her body. She closed her eyes and pulled her knees into her chest. 

Outside the door, Bolide’s fist hovered unable to knock. She closed her eyes against Angie’s wailing and placed the tray on the floor outside the door. The piece of paper she had intended to give to Angie, she folded and put back in her pocket. Bolide reluctantly walked away. Angie slowly dragged herself to the bed and curled on her side. She needed to smell Antonia. To commit it to memory. She wrapped herself in the covers and cried herself to sleep.

Angie woke hours later to a growling stomach. The last thing she wanted to do was eat. She wiped at her sleep caked eyes and attempted a breath through her nostrils which failed. She sighed and looked back in the direction of the vase. Angie needed to get up and get out of this room if she wanted to keep any kind of hold on her sanity. She opened her door and nearly tripped on the cold tray of food on the floor. The sight of food made her nauseous. She picked up the tray, closed her door and headed to the dining hall.

The room was empty and she dumped the uneaten food into the trash then piled the dishes in the sink. She made her way over to the coffee pots that lined the wall. Angie put her hand against each pot down the line praying for a warm one. Just when she was about to lose all hope, the last pot suddenly started bubbling. She smiled weakly, “Thanks.”

Angie took a mug from a tray next to the pot and poured in her sugar and cream before adding the coffee. The pot abruptly stopped bubbling. Angie took a spoon and stirred. She offered Bolide a half smile as she walked to their table. Angie started to sit down but realized she could not. She closed her eyes to the new tears and took a deep breath. Bolide rose from the table and moved quietly to the one next to it. Angie nodded her appreciation and sat down, cradling the cup between her palms.

Bolide bit her lip, debating whether to say any of the hundreds of things she had thought of in the month that Angie had been in seclusion. “Don’t. Please,” Angie seemed to read the other woman’s mind.

Bolide nodded. She reached in her pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper and slid it across the table to Angie. Angie took a sip of her coffee and looked at the page. “Is that the drawing?” she asked.

“Si,” Bolide replied.

Angie unfolded the paper with a sniffle and held it close to her tear blurred eyes. She looked at the drawing. The woman was beautiful; Angie was able to see that. Her face was long and angular but not harsh. A slight scar decorated the corner of her upper lip. Her hair appeared curly beneath the harsh bun it was pulled into, “What colour is the hair?” Angie sighed.

Bolide cleared her throat, “Uhm, it was very light red. Closer to blonde but still held a shade of red.”

Angie nodded, “And the eyes?”

“Very pale blue.”

Angie took a very deep, slow breath, “Tell me everything that happened.”

Bolide ran her hand through her wild hair and started, slowly, “We entered the building from a side entrance. It appeared to be empty. It was a school as we suspected. I don’t know if they were training girls gifted like us or not but they were certainly soldiers. The place looked like it was abandoned in a rush months ago. There were no files, only empty classrooms with projectors with reels of American cartoons. Incanta…Antonia,” Bolide sighed, “Pointed out that it looked like some kind of brainwashing. We made our way through the rest of the building. When we got to the top floor, we started hearing things. Tapping noises in one of the rooms down the hall. Calcio went to check it out, Antonia covered the far entrance to the floor while I checked the other rooms. It looked to be dorms. All of a sudden, Calcio crashed back through the doorway and this woman,” she motioned toward the photo, “barreled out of the room. She was fast and nimble. She moved a bit like a spider, all coiled energy and venom. Calcio and I fought her while Antonia attempted to break into her mind. Antonia managed to get her to drop to her knees but…” Bolide trailed off.

Angie took a steadying breath and put her hand on Bolide’s, “I need to know,” she said quietly.

Bolide nodded and continued, “Antonia unleashed all her power. It was crushing. Calcio and I couldn’t stop ourselves from doing what she commanded. But this woman she just…we were forced to our spots under Antonia’s gifts. The woman bolted forward before we could blink, broke Antonia’s neck and jumped down the stairwell. I ran after her, throwing fire in her path but she was already out the door to the first floor before I even made it to the stairwell entrance. Calcio grabbed Antonia and shouted at me to get out before the woman came back. I’m so sorry Angela,” Bolide’s voice broke.

Angie knew she should probably comfort her but she just did not have the energy. Bolide cried for a few moments while Angie chewed on her lip and glared at the drawing of the murderer. “Have you found out any more information on the woman while I was away?”

Bolide shook her head, “It’s like she just vanished into thin air.”

Angie nodded and sipped her coffee. A chill settled over her. “What time is it?” she asked.

Bolide wiped the remnants of tears from her cheeks, “It’s about 2am.”

“Care to help me spread her ashes?” Angie asked.

Bolide nodded and they walked back to Angie’s room to get the vase. Angie brought the vase to her lips and kissed the cool ceramic gently then held it to her chest as they walked in silence toward the hangar.

_Rome, Italy 1948_

Bolide bolted down the hallway to the hangar bay. The plane Angie and her team had taken to Russia had just landed and she, Pugno and Grandinare poured out of the plane. Angie clapped the young man on the back, “Not too shabby for your first mission, kiddo,” she smiled.

“Mulinello!” Bolide shouted.

Angie waved and stepped toward her. “We found her, we finally found her!” she continued shouting.

Angie’s jaw dropped. Bolide took off running toward the briefing rooms and Angie followed. They arrived, breathless. Angie doubled over in the doorway. General Santoro stood quietly with a raised eyebrow at the intrusion. “Sorry, sir,” Angie tried between breaths, “You found her?”

Angie straightened and looked around the room at the faces of politicians around the table. Bolide was grimacing behind Angie and offered Santoro a silent apology. Angie cringed but made no move to leave. Santoro motioned her to sit down and introduced them to the group, “Gentlemen, meet two of our brightest members of Crisalide: Mulinello and Bolide.”

The men eyed them like they were livestock they debated purchasing. Angie fought the rising tide of rage in her chest. She settled on simply rolling her eyes and offering them a cruel smile. Bolide nodded at them took a seat next to Angie. “As I was saying,” he began again and handed Angie and Bolide two folders, “our operatives have been successful in planting the seeds of doubt about the Russians. We believe that a second, ‘Red Scare,’ as they termed it the first time is well on its way to settling over America. We are preparing members of Crisalide to begin dismantling this new threat, SHIELD. In your packet are listed some of their more senior members and their most lethal operatives.”

Angie threw open the folder and tore through the dossiers. The first was some slimy looking man with a mustache. She had heard his name in passing in relation to an event in Finow. The next photo was of the Colonel she had seen years ago when they had been forced to evacuate their first facility. She remembered his sleeping face when she broke into his tent. The next, Angie smiled at, “English,” she recalled.

“What was that, Mulinello?” Santoro asked.

“Sorry, sir, nothing,” she replied, not realizing she had spoken out loud.

Angie continued thumbing through the photos of men she recognized as Howling Commando members. Then her heart thudded so loud in her chest, she was certain everyone could hear it. Her eyes narrowed as she read the name next to the photograph of the woman who had murdered her Antonia, “Dorothy Underwood,” she said out loud.

“Ah, yes, a Soviet defect. She’s their deadliest agent,” Santoro explained.

“She belongs to me,” Angie said flatly.

“Ah, well,” Santoro started.

Angie raised her frigid gaze to Santoro’s face. He stopped and leaned toward Angie and whispered, “Is she the one responsible for Minsk?”

Angie nodded and Bolide echoed her, “Yes, sir. I’d recognize her anywhere.”

Santoro nodded, “Gentlemen, if it pleases the council, I’d like to nominate Bolide and Mulinello as co-leaders of Operazione Scudo.”

The men in the room grunted their ascent. Angie and Bolide rose and made to exit the room. “Choose your teams carefully,” Santoro encouraged.

Angie nodded and Bolide saluted before they exited the room. The realization dawned on Angie of what all had just happened. She had simultaneously agreed to lead a mission against the security of her home country and she would finally get to avenge the death of the love of her life. A multitude of emotions played through her mind. No single one lasting long enough to take hold other than the one solid thought, “I get to go home.”


	7. Sussurro

_Rome, Italy December 1948_  
Angie’s entire body vibrated with energy. She and Bolide stood next to one another in the front of the briefing room. Angie’s foot tapped impatiently. Calcio and Pugno were the first to enter the room. They nodded at the two women standing in front of the table and took seats next to them at the long table. Bolide rolled her eyes as Angie happily tossed folders at the twins with a grin plastered across her face. The two men scrunched their eyebrows and leaned toward Bolide, “She all right?” they asked in near unison.

Bolide sighed, “Like a dog, is she not?”

Angie crinkled her forehead and elbowed Bolide hard in the ribs.

“Jesus, Mulinello,” she cursed.

Calcio and Pugno snickered despite themselves. “What’d I miss?” Grandinare asked as he plopped in a chair next to the twins.

Angie worried at her bottom lip and wondered if maybe it was a mistake to bring him along. He was still only 16. Angie grunted at the irony. The age she had been taken from America to the facility was the exact age she was taking Tommy back to America. She learned recently that his family was from New York also—a suburb—but not too far from the city. Bolide slid him a folder and looked back toward the door. “You did not happen to see Sussurro on your way in did you?” she asked.

Angie grimaced. Sussurro was Antonia’s younger sister. One thing Crisalide had discovered was that if siblings exhibited gifts, they tended to be similar. If Antonia had known that her sister had been brought in by Crisalide, she had not shared the information with anyone. When Sussurro arrived at the facility the week prior, Angie had collapsed. Fortunately Calcio and Pugno framed her and kept her upright. Her eyes followed the girl as she passed. Pugno let out a low whistle and commented that it was like passing a ghost. Angie agreed. She sighed impatiently waiting for the barely 18 year old to grace them with her presence. Neither Angie or Bolide had approved of bringing Sussurro on the mission, General Santoro had been the one to insist that she have the opportunity to avenge her sister’s death.

Santoro had been kept in the dark as to the nature of Angie and Antonia’s relationship. Only Calcio, Pugno, Bolide and Ombra had known. Angie was certain people had their suspicions but no one ever commented or so much as glanced at them sideways. Angie supposed that had more to do with the fact that they all had something to hide. Santoro never made allusions or inferences at the nature of their relationship for which she was grateful. Sussurro breezed into the room with a toss of her waist length black hair. She glared at Angie and began muttering in Italian. Angie gripped the table until her knuckles turned white. Bolide slid a folder at the girl who winked at Tommy and ran her tongue across her teeth. Angie took a steadying breath and cursed as she exhaled. This one was going to work her last nerve, she just knew it.

Bolide cleared her throat and they all turned their attention toward her. “Firstly, from this moment on, all of you will speak only English.”

Tommy exhaled, his Italian never became fluent and he often relied on others to translate for him. Sussurro clicked her tongue against her teeth and rambled her disgust at the vile language in Italian. Angie’s head snapped at the sound, eyes narrowed to slits, “You will speak only in English or you will be removed from the mission, capito?”

Sussurro crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, “I understand.”

Bolide silently wondered to herself when she became the calm one. She shook the thought from her head and continued, “Each of your folders contain cover stories. Grandinare and Sussurro, you will be placed in the homes of operatives who’ve been established for years. Sussurro, you are a distant relative, happily travelling to America for the first time to see the great city of New York. Grandinare, you are visiting your aunt and uncle in the city. Your parents have fallen on hard times and need you to find work. You may use your given names or choose aliases, whichever you prefer…”

Tommy cleared his throat. Bolide looked at him, “My family is actually from Yonkers, is there any chance I could see them?”

Angie sighed, “Oh kid. Maybe once the mission is over. I grew up in East Harlem and I’d kill to see my ma, pop and granddad,” she rubbed her temples, “We risk the safety of those we love if we try and contact them, especially during a mission…especially during _this_ mission. I’m sorry kiddo.”

Sussurro scoffed and Angie shot a death stare in her direction, daring her to say something. Angie shook her head, _How could sisters be so damn different?_

Angie moved the conversation along before anymore commentary could ensue, “Pugno, Calcio, you’ve moved to NYC to pursue the American dream. Work at the docks has been lined up for you, it’ll be where we will check in once a month. We should pick our aliases now and get used to calling one another by those names. At no point during the rest of this mission do I want to hear our Crisalide names mentioned even once. No more Mulinello, call me Angie or Angela.”

“Marcello,” Calcio added.

“Dante,” Pugno replied.

“Tommy, obviously,” he smiled broadly.

“I think I’d like to be called Antonia,” Sussurro purred.

“Try the fuck again,” Angie growled.

Sussurro rolled her eyes, “Fine. Renata.”

“Valentina,” Bolide added quietly, “Memorize the names everyone has chosen. Any break in cover could be disastrous. Familiarize yourself with the SHIELD operatives in your packets.”

“Don’t we get to know your cover stories?” Sussurro asked, feigning innocence.

Bolide cleared her throat, “I’ll be a secretary at the paper company next door to what we suspect to be the SHIELD offices. Angela will be a waitress at a diner their agents frequent.”

Pugno stifled a snicker. Angie’s face turned ten shades of red. Tommy looked over at Sussurro’s folder and raised his hand, “Yes Tommy?” Angie asked.

“Do we all have different targets? Hers are different from mine,” he scratched his head.

“Yes,” Angie started in, glad for the topic change, “Everyone has different targets of various levels in the organization. You and Renata have the lower security cleared officers. If you can gather information about SHIELD’s operations before executing them, by all means do it. Marcello and Dante,” Angie said haltingly, momentarily forgetting their names, “Your targets are their informants. We trust your discretion.”

“And again you leave your assignments from the briefing,” Sussurro grumbled.

“We are your superior officers and should we choose to withhold information you just have to get over it, don’t you?” annoyance dripped from every word that rolled out of Angie’s mouth.

“Your information is need to know. You don’t need to know, Renata,” Bolide replied curtly, “Another instance of disrespect and I’ll be the one telling the General you’re not coming. You certainly don’t seem to care about vengeance as he claimed.”

“You know nothing about me!” Sussurro screamed and the chair clattered to the ground behind her, “You act like my sister meant more to you than to me. You treat me like I don’t matter. What were you to her? You weren’t family so don’t pretend to be.”

Sussurro’s chest heaved from the anger that rolled off her shoulders. Angie softened, “You guys wanna give me and the kid a minute?”

Bolide put her hand on Angie’s shoulder and squeezed then led the rest of them from the room. When they were alone, Angie motioned for Sussurro to sit down. She did so, reluctantly. Angie opened and closed her mouth twice before finally speaking, “Did you know about your sister’s…leanings?”

Sussurro’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head sadly, “Don’t tell me you and she were…” she motioned vaguely suggestively with her hands.

Angie drummed her fingers on the table. Sussurro continued, “We knew she had a…deviation.”

Anger boiled up suddenly in Angie’s chest. So long in a contained facility and she had nearly forgotten about the cruelty and lack of acceptance outside these walls. “Your sister saved me on more than one occasion especially in the early days,” Angie sighed and decided to keep many things to herself, “We looked out for one another. I was very fond of your sister and I swore I would avenge her death,” Angie cleared her throat.

“You loved her,” Sussurro stated flatly.

Angie bit the inside of her lip, “Yeah. I did, kid.”

Sussurro finally looked up at Angie, “I will hold you to that vow.”

Angie nodded. It was an alliance, an uneasy one, but an understanding fell between them that they would not allow Antonia’s killer to live. Sussurro nodded, “Okay. Let’s go.”

_New York City, NY February 1949_  
Angie stepped off the boat and inhaled the New York City air like she had not breathed in months. It stank and it caught in her throat. Just like she remembered it. She fought the urge to drop to her knees and kiss the concrete at her feet. Instead she grasped her suitcase tightly to her chest. A smile spread from ear to ear. Valentina stepped off the boat behind her and immediately covered her mouth, “My God, it stinks.”

“Welcome to New York,” Angie grinned dopily.

“Dante and Marcello said we should look for housing at a place called the Griffith. It’s housing for ladies only,” Valentina said with her hand over her mouth and nose.

Angie nodded, “I’ve heard of it, come on.”

_SHIELD office, New York City, NY March 1949_  
“I understand that, sir,” Peggy massaged her temples with the hand that was not holding a phone to her ear, “No, Mr. President, I’m not saying that communism isn’t a real threat to America. I’m simply saying that I don’t think the Russians are behind this one.”

The shouting at the other end of the line could be heard in the doorway. Gabe Jones awkwardly shifted from one foot to another and motioned that he would come back. Peggy shook her head aggressively and motioned him to sit. “President Truman, if you would just support us in pursuing our suspicions…” she paused for the ranting to end, “I understand that the Italians joined us at the end of the war but that doesn’t mean that we should ignore the fact that it was only because Mussol…” Peggy bit back a sigh and waited again.

She offered silent apology to Gabe who smiled at her. It had been a year since he and Gabe amicably broke things off, they both realized they made better friends than lovers. Peggy worried for less than ten minutes if their work relationship would suffer from the break. She smiled back at the man in the chair as her thoughts drifted back to Steve, as they often did. “Miss Carter!” the voice shouted through the phone, bringing her back.

“Director, sir,” she corrected, “My calling you was simply a courtesy. We will be pursuing our suspicions, Mr. President, and I will keep you informed. I’d hate to see this country embroiled in another witch hunt like the last time…particularly if you are hunting the wrong witches.”

Peggy placed the phone back on the cradle and some odd combination of a sigh and yell made its way out her throat. “Bloody Nora. Your president is a handful.”

Gabe exhaled in silent laughter. Peggy sank back against her leather chair, “Have I ever mentioned to you how I loathe politics?”

Gabe laughed out loud this time, “Yes. Frequently and with great passion.”

“Well, not to be a broken record but I hate politics. What did you and Agent Morita find out?” she asked as she opened a folder on her desk.

“Well, you remember back in, Lord what was it, ’43? When we found those files that magically disappeared about Crisalide or whatever it was called?” Gabe started.

“Vaguely, I half thought I dreamt the whole thing,” Peggy sighed, “That all seems like a lifetime ago and only just yesterday.”

“You’re tellin’ me. Anyway, we found an undocumented Air Force base. We observed for a few days and there is some weird shit, excuse my language, going on there. You know those reports we’ve started getting about powered people around the world? This seems to be a whole facility full of ‘em,” Gabe sat forward in his chair.

“An entire facility of 084s?” Peggy whistled, “Jesus H. and here we thought Dottie was a handful.”

“Speaking of which, you should talk to her about all this. She was in or around Minsk the entire war…that we know of…maybe she ran into them at some point. If you can get her to talk. Three years and she still won’t tell us her real name. That lady’s got more secrets than J. Edgar.”

Peggy stretched her arms behind her head and groaned then laced her fingers behind her neck. “I’ll sit her down when she gets back. In the meantime, I’m starving. Fancy grabbing lunch with me?” she leaned forward and slipped her feet into her heels.

“Nah, I promised Daniel I’d go with him to talk to Senator McCarthy. He’s in town for the week. See if we can’t get him to dial back the crazy.”

“Oh dear, good luck. I didn’t realize that was today,” Peggy squinted.

“You need to stay out of the field, boss,” Gabe replied.

“Oh no. Not me. That’s what the Colonel is for,” a wide grin flashed across her face, “I love getting my hands dirty.”

Peggy pushed her chair back from the desk and stood up, grabbing her coat from the rack behind her as she did. “You know where to find me if you need me,” she clapped him on the shoulder as they exited her office.

She closed the door behind her and pulled on her jacket. The air outside was frigid. She cursed the skirt she had chosen that morning over trousers. The silks did nothing to keep her warm. She huddled in her jacket and jogged to the L &L Automat. Peggy pushed open the revolving door and closed her eyes to the warmth inside. She made her way through the food line, inserting coins and retrieving her food. She chose a roast beef sandwich and grabbed a coffee mug. The booth that she normally took her meal at was open and she wove through the tables to sit.

Peggy took a bite of her sandwich and groaned as she chewed. A hand reached around her plate to pull her coffee mug closer to the edge of the table. She quickly chewed and swallowed ungracefully. “Thank you,” she smiled and looked at the face above her.

Angie smiled broadly and winked at her, “No problem,” she leaned in close, “I get paid to do this.”

Peggy chuckled and looked away as pink flushed her cheeks. “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

A twinkle lit Angie’s eye. She crossed her legs and leaned against the side of the booth across from Peggy. “It’s my first day without training wheels.”

“Peggy,” before she could stop herself, her hand shot out toward Angie, Peggy had no idea what had possessed her.

Angie took her hand. When she released it, she ran her finger under her nametag and replied, “Angie. Nice to meet ya, English.”

Peggy’s eyes lingered at Angie’s nametag a moment longer than Peggy intended. She quickly jerked her attention away and smiled up at the woman. Her heart hammered in her chest. Before she could think of anything else to say, Angie pushed away from the booth, “See ya ‘round, English.”

“Of course,” Peggy replied and took a giant bite of sandwich, chewing with fervor.

_What the hell, Margaret,_ she chastised herself. She picked up the newspaper on the table and studied it, willing herself not to look in the direction of the waitress. When she finished eating, the diner was busier. She was grateful. Every time Angie had made her way to Peggy’s table to refill her coffee, it took every ounce of willpower at Peggy’s disposal not to gawp at her. Peggy pulled two quarters out of her coin purse and left them under her plate. It was a substantial tip. Too large and she knew it. She rolled her eyes at herself and pulled her coat back on.

Peggy spent the rest of the day in a haze. Her mind wandering back to the crystal blue eyes that reminded her more than a little of Steve, God, but did she have a soft spot for scrawny blondes. “Peg?” a voice interrupted her.

Peggy leaned forward in her chair, “Yes Howard?”

He raised an eyebrow and flopped onto the chair in her office, “I know that dreamy look. I get it every time I meet a girl.”

Peggy flushed and stuttered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Howard. What is it you want?”

“Well, now I want to know his name. Or better yet, Peg, please tell me it’s a lady.”

“God, Howard!” Peggy growled.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m a scoundrel. I know. I’d be lying though if any of us tried to pretend we didn’t imagine you and Dot…”

Peggy lurched forward and threw a stapler at Howard which he barely dodged. He looked back at her, wide eyed and hands raised in surrender, “I’m just messin’ with ya, Peg. Nobody thinks that. Geez. Calm down. I didn’t take ya for someone afraid of that kinda insinuation.”

“What did you need, Howard?” Peggy asked again sounding tired rather than angry. 

She shook her head for responding that way to what was normal type banter from Howard. Peggy was damned if she was going to apologize but she had overreacted. “Shipment’s coming in tonight. Dum Dum said it might be supplies from the Russians, guns, that sort of thing. Thought you’d want to be involved in the raid.”

“Yes thank you, Howard,” she replied in half apology.

Howard had known Peggy long enough to recognize the apology in the words and nodded. “After this, maybe you should take a couple days off, Peg.”

Peggy opened her mouth to protest. Howard continued, “That wasn’t a request.”

Her eyes narrowed and she folded her arms over her chest. She caught her reflection in the glass of her door as he closed it behind him. She looked like a toddler and she sighed. “He’s right, damn it.”

The day passed quickly. Peggy took her extra pair of army pants from a drawer in her desk along with an overly large shirt. She removed herself to the women’s locker room. Unlike the SSR, she and Howard had ensured the women had their own room. She quickly changed into sturdy boots, the pants and placed one of Howard’s pieces of armour that had been made to her measurements on then placed the shirt over top. She was buttoning the final button when the door swung open. Dottie nodded at Peggy and opened her locker. Peggy busied herself pinning her hair back tightly. “Everything go well?” she asked with a bobby pin dangling from her mouth.

Dottie sighed, “Yes. I’m bone deep tired though. Do I need to debrief tonight or can I sleep first?”

Peggy finished with her hair and turned to Dottie who was laying with her eyes closed on the bench. “Tomorrow’s fine,” Peggy bit her lip, “Dottie, what do you know about powered people in Italy?”

Dottie’s shoulders tensed involuntarily. She cleared her throat and turned her head in Peggy’s direction, “What are you talking about?”

“I saw that reaction. You know about them. You’ll tell us everything you know after you debrief tomorrow,” Peggy replied.

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll go back in the box.”

Dottie tsked, “Fine. Good luck tonight. You know none of this is the Russians, right?”

Peggy sighed, “We’ll see.”

Peggy left Dottie staring at the ceiling. Peggy stood outside the door for a moment, listening for Dottie to let slip anything else. Dottie did not make a peep.

***************

The dock was quiet save the splashing of the water against the piers. Angie nodded at Valentina as she approached their hiding spot. Dante and Marcello nodded in their direction from the pier the boat was pulling into. Angie looked for Tommy and Renata around the corner across from them. She caught their attention with a wave of her hand. Tommy waved back frantically and pointed back in the direction of the alley leading up to the docks. Angie quietly floated back in that direction. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath. She kicked up a small whirlwind in the direction of the twins. They retreated immediately back to the shadows. The boat pulled into the dock. Angie jumped the whirlwind to the ship’s bow and watched as a crewman ran to inform the captain. Angie cursed and dispersed the funnel. Renata and Tommy snuck back out of their hiding place and made their retreat.

Valentina whispered to Angie, “Are you ready for this?”

Angie sighed, “As I’ll ever be.”

The group consisted of fifteen men, each carrying what looked like a tommy gun. Angie squinted. One of them, she thought, looked like a woman. Her heart sped at the possibility of crossing Dorothy off her list, their first encounter with SHIELD. Angie and Valentina pulled their knit caps over their faces. They waited for Dante and Marcello to provide the distraction. They did not wait long. Before the group made it to the wooden pier, walls of earth shot up around them, pinning them in. Deep baritone voices cursed. Valentina flicked open her palm and hurled a ball of fire into the walls. The earth sank away and several people stumbled out of the ring. Five men thrashed around on the ground, trying to put themselves out. A voice rang out over the crowd and pointed in Valentina’s direction, “Up there.”

Four men knelt down and sprayed their hiding place with bullets. Angie compressed the atmosphere around them. The bullets hung in the air in front of them. With a flick of her wrist, she sent them careening back at the shooters. They crumpled to the ground in a splash of blood. “Don’t shoot!” the voice rang out again, “Close combat weapons. Force them to us. Unit B, close in.”

Angie finally placed the voice and she groaned, _Dammit English. What kind of director goes on a raid like this?_ “Val, it’s Carter down there,” she sighed.

A string of profanities in Italian rolled out of her mouth. “We gotta get to the twins. What kind of director goes on a supply raid?”

“You ain’t gotta tell me,” Angie replied and grabbed Valentina around the waist.

She launched them from their place and in a blur of speed, flew into the warehouse holding Dante and Marcello. Valentina bolted from Angie’s arms the second her foot touched ground, “I’ll go distract, you get them out of here, Bolide.”

Valentina nodded and disappeared into the darkness. Angie adjusted her mask so the tiniest strip of her eyes were visible and launched herself into the fray. She hovered over them and quickly scanned for Carter. She let a growl loose unable to find her. “Mulinello!” Valentina shouted over her shoulder.

She turned, as a knife caught her in the shoulder. Angie glared back down the trajectory the knife travelled. A man dropped his arm and was reaching for his gun. His hands went to his throat and he gasped, falling to his knees. Angie cocked her head to the side and removed the knife from her shoulder. She called a tornado up around her, sending the agents attempting to circle her, flying out into the water. A short distance away, Peggy creeped toward Angie’s tornado. The wind dissipated and she dropped awkwardly to the ground. “Shit,” she muttered.

Blood poured out her shoulder, Angie cursed her shortsightedness removing the blade and clasped her hand tightly over the wound. Peggy quietly inched forward. Angie backed away like a trapped animal, “Don’t come any closer,” she barked.

Peggy raised her hands and stopped advancing. “You’re American?” she asked.

Angie gritted her teeth and backed away further, grateful for the mask over her face. She raised her arm to get her shoulder higher to slow the blood flow. Peggy inched forward again, “Let me help you. We can help you.”

Angie grimaced and shook her head to clear it. She was being surrounded and her energy depleted the longer she did not get the wound closed. A ring of fire erupted around Angie and she sighed in relief. The flames provided some cover for Angie to limp away. Her vision was beginning to blur. She knew she had little time to get out before she passed out. She shot up suddenly, screwing up all her strength. She skidded across the top of a building a few blocks away. Angie groggily peeled the mask off her face and ripped at the cloth of her shirt to make a bandage. She managed to get it wrapped part way around her shoulder before passing out. Valentina and the twins tracked her to the roof. Valentina cursed and shook Angie’s opposite shoulder. She stirred slightly. “This is going to hurt,” she warned.

Angie screamed as her flesh seared under the heat of Valentina’s palm. “Merda,” she managed hoarsely, “Warn a person before you do something like that.”

Valentina laughed, “I did warn you. The wound is closed.”

Angie groaned and tried to sit up. Dante hoisted her by the armpits. “You two okay?” Angie asked.

The twins nodded in tandem. “Should we go back for the supplies?” Marcello asked.

“Nah, it was just armour. No files or nothin’. SHIELD’s buddy Stark probably has made better, so the tech won’t be a problem though we coulda done with the body armour. Tommy and Renata get out okay?”

“We saw them book it out of there before anything went down,” Dante confirmed.

Angie sighed deeply, “Okay, well, let your contact know the shipment was compromised. We’ll need to figure out how they found out about the drop off.”

Angie tried to stand and stumbled. Dante reached around her waist. She steadied her feet beneath her and patted his shoulder. “I’m okay. We need to scoot. If you guys tracked me they could too.”

Dante pulled away reluctantly. Angie settled her weight over her legs. “Be safe boys,” she smiled.

They nodded and hopped down the fire escape ladder. “Come on,” Angie said to Valentina who was staring at her like she was a porcelain doll. “I’m not gonna break. We gotta go,” she held out her arms with a grimace.

Valentina positioned herself under Angie’s opposite shoulder and held her weight. Angie lifted them off the roof slower than normal and floated them back to the Griffith and into their respective windows. Angie peeled out of her bloody shirt and cringed at the movement. She stood in front of the mirror in her bathroom and examined the blistered skin. It was closed, but she knew that burn was going to hurt something fierce the second water touched it. She pulled the rest of her clothes off and filled the bathtub. As she sank into the almost too hot water, she cursed herself. “That could’ve gone better,” she complained to the wall.

**Author's Note:**

> List of Italian Translations:  
> Mulinello: Whirlwind  
> Bolide: FIreball  
> Ombra: Shadow  
> Pugno: Punch  
> Calcio: Kick  
> Incantatrice: Enchantress  
> Metallo Bocca: Metal Mouth  
> Grandinare: Hail  
> Crisalide: Chrysalis  
> Scudo: Shield  
> Ammiraglio: Admiral  
> Sussurro: Whisper  
> 


End file.
